Guardian
by Tracy-Lou
Summary: Brendan is released from prison but isn't sure how to place himself back into Ste's life. Cover image by Lili (Teiubesc8)
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks!

Summary: Brendan is released from prison but isn't sure how to place himself back into Ste's life.

A/N: I know my last fic sounded so final but then the end happened and there was so much potential for further storytelling!

Guardian

Chapter One

Brendan took a deep, shuddering breath. The air was cleaner somehow; the scent engulfing his nostrils and making his head spin. It was crazy but it almost felt like he'd never seen the outside world before. Everything was so beautiful; clear and fresh, hopeful. He took a tentative step forwards, his shoes black and pointed, the ones he should have died in.

He hadn't expected to ever leave this place. When he'd confessed on that balcony, he had known it was the end of everything. He had laid himself bare, expelled every demon imaginable. But the justice system didn't quite work that way and Brendan had found himself charged with Manslaughter for the death of his father. Cheryl's testimony had helped, and the lack of evidence for the other murders had made a difference. He'd gotten seven years and yet here he was, out in half that time for good behaviour.

_Good behaviour. _It was almost laughable, but somehow Brendan had managed it. He'd done every rehabilitation class they'd thrown at him. Even taken a few English classes for the sake of it. He didn't have anything to prove; he told Cheryl not to visit and Steven… well, he'd made himself clear there too.

Who else had he done it for though? Himself? He wasn't sure. No amount of self reflection had given him an answer to that. He was just happy to be out, to be free again. The shirt he wore was too tight for him now; he'd grown bulkier inside, he had to be. He went to the nearest shop he could find, using the cash he'd had on him that night to buy a few necessities.

After that he paused, unsure of where to turn. Could he really go back to Chester? Have people staring at him constantly, talking about him, making him feel ashamed? Surely he'd had that enough in his life already. But he had to know how he was, he had to check on him. The non- contact had been brutal but necessary. Steven had tried, despite Brendan's final words to him. He was persistent for a good year. Visiting orders denied, half written letters ignored. It pained Brendan but he hadn't known at the time that he wouldn't be serving his full sentence and though seven years wasn't life, it might as well have been.

Eventually Steven had given up. Brendan just hoped he hadn't given up on _himself. _He couldn't fool himself into thinking that Steven was better off with him around. He wasn't about to throw himself back into his life without warning. He didn't even know if Steven still lived in Hollyoaks. For all he knew, he'd moved on. Brendan's chest tightened at the thought but he rented a car regardless and made the drive, hands twitching on the steering wheel all the way.

The village wasn't the same and yet in some ways it was. Brendan kept a low profile, hood up and beard half covering his face. There were some new faces, people he didn't know. Loud, boisterous men and women in red heels. He looked up at his old club, feeling nothing. It was no more than a building to him now. His eyes drew away towards the deli and then froze, hardly believing his eyes.

Carter and Hay was no more. Instead it bore the singular name _Carter. _Or 'Carter's' to be more specific. Brendan felt his insides freeze in panic. He spotted Douglas inside and it took an incredible amount of self restraint to not approach him. He decided to address one of the men he'd come across earlier.

"Boy," he asked the youngest. "What happened here?" He grunted.

The boy looked him over appraisingly. He took in his stance, the strong muscles visible even beneath his coat and gulped visibly. Brendan almost smiled, almost.

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't the same building as before." Brendan said, patience wearing thin.

"Oh that one burnt down a few years ago." He answered carefully.

"Burnt down?" Brendan asked sharply. "Was anyone- did anyone get hurt?"

"No." The boy shook his head. "But they never found out who did it."

"The other owner…" Brendan began. "What happened to him?"

Before the boy could answer, a familiar voice called out to him.

"You gonna get back to work?" Douglas asked, only a little annoyed.

"Yes, boss!"

Brendan noticed the different uniform then. They had changed it. The shirt was more of a polo shirt and a darker blue. The trousers were black and shapely. Brendan idly wondered if Steven had come up with it.

"Who's that you were talking to?" Douglas asked and Brendan took that as his cue to leave.

He leant against the alleyway wall, taking several deep breaths. What had happened here? Where was Steven? He had thought he was leaving him with the best chance to make a life for himself, but what if he'd been wrong? He had sacrificed so much for Cheryl but Steven? He hadn't deserved any of this. Brendan pushed himself off of the wall, determined to go to Steven's flat and at least find out if he lived there still. Maybe he had moved after all. Brendan wasn't sure if he could continue on with life without seeing him at least once.

It was dark when he arrived, the curtains drawn. Brendan found himself unable to call out Steven's name, it was far too painful. Instead he knocked against the window. Nothing. He tried again and heard a stirring inside. Growing more confident, he practically threw his fist through the window, alarmed when he saw a crack form. He ducked out of sight immediately at the same moment the door swung open.

"Oi!" A voice called out.

Brendan froze, staring in awe at the man before him. It wasn't Steven. He was older, perhaps around forty. He was heavily built, sandy haired with piercing blue eyes. He looked vaguely familiar.

Brendan felt his chest seize up in grief. He should have known. Steven couldn't wait forever, especially when Brendan had given him nothing to cling on to. He was just about to turn away when another figure approached.

"What is it?"

He stepped outside into the light and Brendan stopped breathing. _Steven. _

"Go back inside, Steven." The man said, voice rough. "Probably some kid playing tricks."

"It don't matter, could do with a new window anyway." Steven grinned, the effect lighting up his entire face.

"And I suppose I'll be the one to pay for it, hm?" The man shook his head, affectionate smile on his face.

"When I find a job…" Steven said sheepishly.

"The club has an opening." The man suggested, peering at Steven beneath his eyebrows.

Steven froze, his eyes gazing into the middle distance. Brendan could almost feel his eyes on him but it was impossible.

"Steven?" The man asked, looking at him in concern.

"I, uh, yeah." Steven began, clearly uncomfortable. "Maybe I will." He didn't look sure, and Brendan thought he could see moisture in his eyes.

The man patted him on the shoulder. Brendan's fingers curled into fists reflexively. No amount of anger management was going to abate this feeling inside of him.

There was something about them though. The vibe wasn't sexual, nor loving. It was something else. Protective… and new. Who was this man, who had made a claim on his Steven? Who was he to even call him that, when it was Brendan who always had? Brendan could feel the blood welting on his palms from where his fingernails had dug into the flesh too hard. He breathed heavily through his nose, trying to stifle his too loud breaths.

"Come on, Steven. It's cold outside." The man guided him back inside, glancing around warily.

"Wait!" Steven said, bounding outside again. He seemed… younger somehow. He looked the same as he always had to Brendan no matter how many years had passed. He had the same bright blue eyes, pouting mouth, smooth skin. His hair looked impossibly soft and brighter. Perhaps he'd seen some sun. Brendan liked that thought. His heart swelled with the sight of him, drinking in every detail like a man denied sustenance. He wanted to reach out and touch him so badly but knew he couldn't, not with someone else by his side.

"What have you found?" The man asked, sighing. He wasn't impatient; he looked at Steven with a keen gaze, as though afraid to let him out of his sight.

"Something in the grass." Steven said, bending down to scoop up the item. Brendan crawled back further, cracking a few twigs in the process. Steven froze, nose turned up suspiciously to the wind. He shook his head, ignoring his instincts. Brendan sighed inwardly; had he not listened to Brendan all this time?

"It's just a…" Steven stopped speaking then. His eyes widened in disbelief, his fingertips holding the shiny metal.

Brendan leant closer to look, wondering what he had found. He saw the glint of the 'B' in the light and shrunk back. Shit.

"What?" The man approached him, taking the cufflink out of Steven's hands. "Whose is this?"

"I don't know." Steven lied, swallowing. His eyes darted out as though searching for something. Brendan kept deadly still. "It must have been here a while." Steven said quietly to himself, rising. His colour and smile had vanished. Brendan felt his heart twist in sympathy.

"I'll get rid of it then?" He asked, searching Steven's face for answers.

"No. It looks expensive, maybe I can pawn it." Steven's smile returned. Brendan didn't know whether to feel relieved or sad.

"Come inside now." The man said, clasping his shoulder. "There's a good lad."

Brendan looked at the ground, bereft. It was time to go. He backed away carefully, trying not to make any noise.

"Dad," Steven said suddenly. "I will get a job you know."

"I know, son." The man said, grinning now and ruffling Steven's hair. "I believe in you."

Steven's face shined with happiness as he went back inside. Brendan on the other hand remained completely still, stunned beyond belief.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Brendan remembered the first few weeks of prison as the worst. He spent two days confined to his cell, not eating anything and only drinking what he had to. Eventually the threat of being force fed spurred him to venture into the dining hall but that didn't improve his temperament. Some of the men had been inside during his last sentence and sneered at him as he walked by.

One man in particular caught his eye, especially when he stood to block his path. Brendan squinted at him, taking in the wide frame, scratchy stubble and insufferable grin.

"Brendan Brady, oh how the mighty have fallen." That voice too; sneering as ever, too loud and pronounced.

"Foxy," Brendan greeted him dryly. "Fancy seeing ye here."

Warren smirked unpleasantly. "You'd think you would remember the man you got banged up."

"I remember all the men I bang." Brendan said, voice dead.

Warren's smile didn't falter. "And how is ratboy, hm?"

Brendan didn't even hesitate when he lunged for him, throwing him onto one of the tables. "Shut yer mouth." He growled, grip firm on Warren's throat.

The guards hurried forwards but Warren waved them away when Brendan finally let go.

"It's alright, old friend of mine." Warren winked. He turned his gaze back to Brendan. "You haven't lost that temper of yours I see."

Brendan grunted in reply, pushing past him to grab a plate of food.

"First meal, huh? Not been hungry?" Warren asked, persistent as ever.

Brendan ignored him, loading the bare minimum onto his plate.

"Unlike you isn't it?" He could feel Warren's breath on the back of his neck. The effect made him shudder involuntarily.

"Whatever."

He threw his plate down, striding out of the dining room. He'd suddenly lost his appetite.

The nights were the worst. He would only sleep a few hours at a time, plagued by nightmares and restlessness. In those first few nights everything was still raw; wounds open and gaping. Sometimes in the dead of night, Brendan thought he could feel Steven's lips pressed against his in a final, desperate kiss.

It took some adjusting, and Brendan had plenty of time for it. He refused visitations, avoided Warren as much as possible and generally spent his time reading and working out. His workouts became so intense that he could block out his surroundings. It seemed to calm him, more than his anger management sessions did.

As he wandered aimlessly through the village in the present, he resisted the urge to run and never come back. Everything was so infinite in the real world. He wasn't caged, he had room to breathe, but his head was such a mess of confused jumbles. He had no where to turn, no family or friends he could rely on here.

He was so absorbed in his musings that he didn't notice when he walked straight into someone. Very careless when he was trying to keep a low profile; especially when that certain person was someone he knew very well.

"Brendan?" A voice asked incredulously.

"Anne?" Brendan murmured after a moment's beat. Was she some kind of mirage?

"Is it really you?" Her lips spread into a huge grin. She didn't hug him though. Brendan thought it was down to his unkempt appearance until he noticed the small boy holding her hand tightly.

"Who's this?" Brendan asked, voice lighter than it had been in years.

Mitzeee glanced down, fond smile on her face. "This is Phoenix, my son."

Brendan remembered a distant conversation about the pregnancy and the one night stand. "The stripper?" He asked absently.

"He's Riley's." Mitzeee replied, voice quiet.

"And _you_ are?" Phoenix asked impulsively. He had Mitzeee's eyes and they lit up his tiny face.

"Phoenix, don't be rude." Mitzeee scolded him with a small huff. "This is Brendan."

Phoenix blinked up at him, considering. "The man on the wall?"

Mitzeee's cheeks flushed visibly. "Yes, the man on the wall."

Brendan tilted his head inquisitively.

"Picture of us." Mitzeee explained, small curve to her mouth.

"Ah, glad someone remembers me." Brendan attempted a smile but he must have looked deranged because Mitzeee frowned.

"Why don't you come back with me? We can talk." Mitzeee placed a gentle hand on his arm. Brendan tried not to flinch; he wasn't used to kind touches these days.

"Ye live here again?" Brendan asked, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, moved back a year ago."

"Why?" Brendan couldn't help asking.

Mitzeee shrugged awkwardly. "It's home, isn't it? I wanted Phoenix to see where his daddy lived."

"Daddy's with the angels." Phoenix explained as though giving Brendan a lecture.

Brendan bent down to his level, removing his hood briefly. "I got a lot of people up there too."

"That must be sad." Phoenix said. He was perceptive, just like his mum.

"Mm, mostly." Brendan agreed, glancing up at Mitzeee.

"Have you seen Ste yet?" She asked as they walked to her flat.

"Briefly, didn't approach him."

"Why not?"

"He had company." Brendan said darkly.

"You mean Sam?" Mitzeee asked, a little brighter than Brendan thought was necessary.

"Sam is it?" He answered scathingly.

"You know it's his dad?" Mitzeee asked, frowning.

"Course. Great track record with fathers, me."

Mitzeee's expression darkened. She turned the key, allowing Brendan to walk in ahead of her.

"I best put the kettle on."

"I'd ask for something stronger but…"

"No chance." Mitzeee ruffled Phoenix's hair. "Too curious for his own good, this one."

"Best way to be sometimes." Brendan said absently. He stared a little sadly at the boy, who had run ahead of them to grab his toys.

"So you saw him then?" Mitzeee asked once they had settled down together on the sofa.

"Yeah." Brendan grunted, remembering how good he had looked and how desperately he had wanted to touch him. "What do ye know of this father of his?" Brendan asked, straight to the point.

"Sam? He's…" Mitzeee struggled to find the words. "Nice, I suppose."

"Nice?"

"He's charming." Mitzeee blushed. "Strong, confident. Watches out for Ste, God knows he needed it-"

"What do ye mean?" Brendan asked sharply.

Mitzeee faltered, looking uncomfortable. "How much do you know?"

"I know the deli burnt down." Brendan replied.

Mitzeee nodded. "I heard about that, Ste told me." She paused then, seeming reluctant to continue.

"And?" Brendan pressed. "Who started the fire?"

Mitzeee looked away uncomfortably. "I think you ought to ask Ste that."

Brendan opened his mouth to argue until Phoenix came bounding over to them.

"Ste? Is Ste coming round?" He asked excitedly.

Mitzeee smiled at him, brushing his cheek with her finger. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Brendan repeated.

"He's babysitting." Mitzeee explained.

"Leah and Lucas?" Brendan asked, seized with a sudden hope. "Are they here?"

Mitzeee shook her head sadly. "They're with Amy. She visits though, not as often as Ste would like. I let him look after Phoenix sometimes. It makes him feel better."

Brendan nodded, slumping a little.

"Have you got anywhere to stay tonight?" Mitzeee asked.

"Probably stay in a B&B." Brendan replied absently. His thoughts were on Leah and Lucas now. How old must Leah be? Eight? Nine?

"You can stay here." Mitzeee said, breaking his thoughts. "We have a spare room."

"I couldn't…" Brendan said quietly.

"Course you can. I know how it is, when you first get out." Mitzeee looked into his face. "Bet you haven't had a decent nights sleep in years."

Brendan shrugged. "Steven though…"

"He's taking Phoenix out for the day, he'll be in and out." Mitzeee said. "But I mean, you could say hello, if you wanted to…"

"No, not yet." Brendan replied gruffly.

"But you'll stay? We'll only worry about you otherwise." Mitzeee smiled, glancing over at Phoenix who was pointing up at their picture on the wall.

"You're hairy now." He said in confusion.

Brendan laughed, the sound alien to him after years of disuse. "I haven't shaved yet."

Phoenix approached him carefully, reaching out as though to stroke the beard. He looked to his mum for confirmation. Mitzeee nodded, eyes glittering at Brendan.

"Soft." He said, slowly beginning to smile.

"Wait till ye see the tache." Brendan told him, wolfy grin in place.

"Tache having a comeback, is it?" Mitzeee asked, amused.

"Maybe."

"You'll feel more like yourself then."

"Not sure I want to." Brendan admitted.

Mitzeee's expression softened. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet." Brendan said. "But… thanks." He meant the room for the night, but also so much more.

"Anytime." Mitzeee replied quietly.

Even in a soft, comfortable bed Brendan found himself wide awake. He had grown used to the noises of men around him and now the silence was stifling. He tossed and turned, growing aggravated. Eventually he went out into the living room for a glass of water, sitting in the quiet living room, alone once more.

He glanced up at the picture of himself and Mitzeee, his eyes travelling to others on the wall. Phoenix presumably taking his first steps, one of the two of them with Carl and Bobby and then… Steven. Steven and Mitzeee, Phoenix in the middle. Brendan stood up, walking closer to the picture and rubbing his thumb across the man in the frame. Steven had lived a life without him, what was he even doing here?

Knowing he wouldn't get any sleep that night, he made himself comfortable on the sofa and put the television on quietly so he didn't wake the other two. He must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he knew Mitzeee was shaking him and there was a voice at the door.

"Mitz? Can I come in?"

"Just a minute, Ste!" Mitzeee called, staring at Brendan with wide eyes. "What are you doing? Get in the bedroom!" She hissed quietly.

"Is everything alright?" Steven asked, concerned.

"Fine! Just a minute!"

"Are you naked or something?" Steven laughed. Brendan closed his eyes, shuddering in pleasure at the noise.

Mitzeee rolled her eyes, faint smile on her lips. She gave him a push towards the bedroom.

"Stay there and be quiet." She whispered urgently before rushing towards the door.

Steven walked in like he owned the place, eyes scanning the flat suspiciously. "You got a bloke here or something?"

"Don't be daft!" Mitzeee replied nervously, playing with her hair.

"Ste!" Phoenix toddled out of his room, arms outstretched.

"There you are!" Steven bent down to pick him up. "And how are you?"

"Good!" Phoenix replied brightly. "Mummy has a friend here."

Steven raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Does she now?"

Mitzeee bustled around the room, collecting Phoenix's things. She shot Brendan a warning glance at the door. He shrunk back further.

"None of my business!" Steven said eventually, eyes shining with unsuppressed glee.

"How's the job hunt going?" Mitzeee asked, changing the subject.

"It wasn't good until I bumped into Darren, they have a job going at The Dog."

"I could have helped you with that, I still have some sway there." Mitzeee said.

"Oh no it's fine. Dad's been keen enough for me to work at the club, I don't want to lean on people too much."

Brendan didn't mistake the sympathy in Mitzeee's expression at that statement. Brendan sensed that on a normal day she would have pressed it, but with Brendan lurking nearby she changed tact.

"It could be fun though, working together again at the club."

Steven looked uncomfortable, hoisting Phoenix closer in his arms. "Not for me." He said, tight smile on his face.

"Can I ask you something, Ste?" Mitzeee asked conspiratorially. Brendan tensed in response.

"Anything." Steven replied, leaning closer.

"What would you do if Brendan… came back?"

Steven blinked, stunned. "He isn't, Mitzeee."

"Say he did though." Mitzeee pressed.

Steven looked confused. "Why are you asking me this? We don't talk about him." He said very quietly.

"Not anymore, I know." Mitzeee replied, glancing warily at the door behind her. "Because of how upset you were-"

"Mitzeee, can we not talk about this?" He whispered, flushing. Phoenix looked between the two of them, confused.

"Brendan?" He asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"It's no one, Phoenix." Steven said quickly.

Mitzeee ushered them out quickly after that and then opened the bedroom door, looking apologetic.

"I thought I'd try." She explained.

"It's fine. I couldn't expect him to wait for me, I gave him no reason to."

"He's hurting, Bren. Has been for the past three and a half years. He loved you so much."

"Past tense, ouch." Brendan strode past her, hand rubbing at his temple. "I should go."

"Go? Go where?" Mitzeee asked worriedly.

"Away. Steven has a life here now, I can't ruin that."

"Bren-"

Brendan interrupted her by kissing her on the forehead. "Thanks for everything, Anne. I'll be in touch."

"Brendan!" Mitzeee called after him as he went out the door.

It was no use; Brendan looked straight ahead, no turning back.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Brendan shut the door heavily, once more shielding himself with his hood. He looked out across the village, spotting Steven and Phoenix at a distance. Steven was holding the little boys hand, chatting animatedly to him. Brendan remembered a time when Steven's voice would wash over him, lulling him more than anything else could. That had been the worst consequence of prison; feeling the memory of that voice slip away from him.

He followed after them absently, feeding his hunger for the man he had lost, allowing his voice to flow through him, once again filling him with warmth and comfort.

Steven approached Darren outside The Dog, flashing him a bright smile as they began speaking. Brendan was too far away to hear them but judging by Steven's enthusiastic hand gestures, Brendan imagined he was speaking to him about the job opening.

At this point Brendan took a moment to reflect on why Steven needed a job in the first place. What had caused the deli to burn down? Why hadn't Steven rejoined Douglas when it was re-built? Not only that, but what had Steven been doing for money all this time?

Steven finished speaking with Darren and continued on his way, slight bounce in his step. Brendan loved seeing him happy but it also made him ache. Every moment he remained here reminded him of how much he didn't belong anymore. Steven was undoubtedly better off without him and he and Mitzeee had each other now.

Brendan pulled his jacket tighter around himself, heading closer to the pub. It was strange to think how close it had come to belonging to _him. _Brendan pushed the thought roughly aside, his attention diverted when he saw Steven's father approaching. Hastily, Brendan hid himself from sight.

"Alright, mate?" Darren greeted him in that uneasy way he had once reserved for Brendan.

"Was that my Steven just then?" He responded, voice gruff.

"Yeah, he was asking about the job going."

"Oh?"

"You sound surprised…" Darren said slowly.

"He gave me the impression he was taking up a job at the club." He replied smoothly.

"Oh, he didn't say." Darren frowned.

"I guess I'm saying then."

Darren blinked, smiling tightly. "Alright, thanks for the heads up."

Steven's father nodded, hands clasped behind his back as he moved away. Brendan frowned after him, falling into step behind him. He walked to Chez Chez, still named such, and let himself in. Brendan stopped short, confused.

"Brendan?" It was Mitzeee. She came up behind him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I thought you'd gone."

"Why is he going into my club?" Brendan asked shortly, turning to her.

Mitzeee looked uncomfortable, eyes drawing away from his face. "I meant to say…"

"Say _what_?"

"He owns it."

Xxx

"Brady."

Brendan ignored the voice, continuing with his press ups. He did them every morning; it cleared his head and strengthened his resolve to stay in this place another day.

"Brendan." Warren crouched down next to him, peering into his face.

"Get lost, Foxy." Brendan grunted, picking himself off of the floor and wiping his face on a t-shirt.

"It's visitors day today." Warren straightened, looking at Brendan with steely eyes.

"And?"

"Aren't you expecting anyone?"

"No." Brendan said shortly.

"I would have thought your Cheryl would make an appearance." Warren commented, hiding his smirk.

"I said not to."

"What about Mitzeee?" Warren's eyes flashed dangerously then.

"No chance." Brendan said, more determined. "Especially with ye here."

Warren's expression distorted into something ugly but it passed momentarily.

"Ste?"

Brendan's jaw tightened. "Don't say his name."

"What happened with you two? Did you ever make it?" Warren's tone was mocking but he sounded genuinely curious too.

Brendan looked at him suspiciously. "What do ye want, Foxy?"

"I'm bored." Warren sat heavily on Brendan's bed.

"I can't help ye there." Brendan said, finding a spare shirt to throw over his head.

"Come on, give me something." Warren leaned forwards eagerly. "You disappeared off the radar for a while. I heard you got out of the game."

Brendan turned to him then, expression guarded. "Oh yeah? Keeping tabs on me, were ye?"

"As I said, I'm bored." Warren said, leaning back now on Brendan's bed. "So?"

"Yeah, I went clean." Brendan said shortly. "Evidently it didn't last."

"Why though?" Warren asked, eyes glittering.

"I ain't telling ye."

"I think I can guess." Warren said smugly. "Can't say I'm too surprised, you two were always gonna get there eventually. Shame you're in here now, mind…"

"Shut up, Foxy." Brendan said bluntly, moving out of the room.

Warren trailed after him like a distorted shadow.

"I'm just trying to help, Brendan. Someone to talk to and all that."

Brendan spun around, causing Warren to stop abruptly before he barrelled straight into him.

"Ye hate me, I got ye locked up. Why would ye wanna talk?"

Warren shrugged. "I don't have many mates in here, I figure while we're here together we might as well get on."

Brendan looked at him with narrowed eyes. "When do ye get out?"

"Longer than you." Warren snorted derisively. "And you're the one who killed your own dad!"

Brendan grimaced then, turning away from him once more.

"Find another mate, Foxy."

"Hey, don't be like that!" Warren continued to follow him. "You'll need all the protection you can get in here, bloke like you."

"Bloke like me?" Brendan sneered, turning to get up close to Warren's face. "Ye think I give a shit that I'm gay anymore? I could fuck whoever I want in this place if I turn the charm on enough, even ye."

Warren snorted. "You reckon? Because I don't think you really believe that."

"I don't care what ye believe." Brendan said, voice low. "Now get out of my face."

He walked briskly away. Warren paused before shouting out after him.

"Maybe I'll ask Ste to come visit me! Sounds like he's pretty desperate to get in from what the guards have told me."

Brendan clenched his fists, resisting the bait.

"What do you think this lot will make of him? Skinny lad like that? They'll be salivating all over him I'll bet."

"I'm done with him." Brendan said, voice hollow.

"I fell for that once, not again!" Warren laughed. "I will break you, Brady!"

"Good luck with that." Brendan replied stiffly, taking himself out of Warren's sight.

Xxx

"Why didn't ye tell me?" Brendan asked heavily. They were back in Mitzeee's flat. She'd made him some coffee but it remained untouched on the table.

"I thought it might upset you." Mitzeee answered sadly. "I know the club meant a lot to you."

"Not as much as…" Brendan trailed off. "It's not really about the club."

"It isn't?"

"It's this man," Brendan snarled. "Showing up and taking everything that belongs to me. My club, my village, my…"

"Ste?" Mitzeee raised her eyebrows. Her face was kind but Brendan could tell she was holding something back.

"What is it, Anne? Why are ye looking at me like that?"

"You really need to talk to Ste, Brendan."

Brendan shook his head resolutely. "I can't. He's better off without me."

"Is he though?" Mitzeee pressed.

"What are ye saying? That he isn't safe with… what's his name."

"Sam." Mitzeee replied.

"Samuel. Samuel what?"

"Spencer."

"Samuel Spencer." Brendan allowed the name to roll off his tongue. "I don't trust him."

Mitzeee gave a little smile then. "Have you even spoken to him?"

"I overheard him telling Darren that Steven has a job at the club so not to bother employing him at The Dog."

Mitzeee frowned deeply then. "Ste doesn't want to work at the club." She said slowly. "Why would Sam do that?"

"Why indeed?"

"There must be some mistake." Mitzeee said, turning her face away.

"That's what he said." Brendan said, feeling panic rise. "Ye didn't know he was capable of this?"

"No!" Mitzeee looked worried now. "Ste's not going to be happy."

"What's so wrong with working at the club anyway? Suited him before." Brendan muttered quietly.

"Oh, Brendan! You can be so dense sometimes. What do you think?" Mitzeee exclaimed, exasperated.

Brendan stared blankly at her.

"Why would he want to work there again? With all those memories? He hasn't set foot in the place since!"

"Seriously?"

"Yes!" Mitzeee flicked her hair behind her. "Now how are you going to fix this?"

"Me?"

"Who else?"

"What do ye expect me to do about it?"

"Talk to him!"

Brendan stood up, pacing around the flat. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I have to leave him alone, it's for the best."

"You listen here, Brendan Brady." Mitzeee began, rising and placing her hands on her hips. "You don't know how lucky you are to have another chance. If Riley were here don't you think I'd jump at the opportunity for us to be together?"

"It's not the same, Anne. Riley didn't hurt ye like I hurt Steven."

"He left me, is that not enough?"

There was silence between them. Brendan broke it eventually with quiet words.

"Are ye saying that's how Steven feels? Like I left him?"

"You need to talk to him." Mitzeee said, calmer now. "Promise me you'll think about it."

Brendan nodded absently.

"You won't leave will you?"

"Of course not." Brendan said, shocked.

"But earlier…"

"Just because I said I won't go near him doesn't mean I won't look out for him, especially with his dad around."

"You can stay here as long as you like."

"That's kind of ye, Anne but I best find somewhere for myself."

Mitzeee nodded, giving him a small smile. "Ste's gonna be back soon, what should I tell him?"

"Ye best let Samuel explain it to him."

"You can stay here until you find somewhere." Mitzeee offered.

"Thank ye."

The door went then, startling both of them. "I'll just…" Brendan stepped back into the bedroom, closing the door partly shut after him.

"How are my two favourite boys, hm?" Mitzeee greeted them. Phoenix ran into her arms, stroking her hair.

"Ste took me to see the ducks, Mummy."

"Did he now?"

Steven placed their bag on the table. "He's proper worn me out today you know."

"You had fun though?"

"Course!" Steven ruffled Phoenix's hair. "I'm sorry I can't stay for a bit, my dad wants a word."

Brendan saw Mitzeee's expression change. "Yeah? What about?"

"Oh I dunno, he just texted me." Steven bent forwards to kiss her cheek. His line of sight was directly where Brendan was standing. He frowned, pulling back. "Is someone here?"

"What? No." Mitzeee said quickly. Phoenix blinked at her, looking curious.

Steven frowned, moving past her towards the bedroom door. Brendan drew back hastily, breath catching in his throat.

"Ste, there's no one!" Mitzeee said quickly.

Steven had just reached the door when his phone buzzed again. He took it out of his pocket and frowned. "He's keen, I better go." he said, thankfully backing away from the door. He'd been close enough for Brendan to smell him.

When he heard the door close Brendan let out a deep breath of relief.

"This can't carry on." Mitzeee hissed, opening the door. "He's gonna get suspicious."

"Why are you hiding from Ste?" Phoenix asked, his little face scrunched up in confusion.

"It's one of those things, wee man." Brendan said softly.

"But he misses you." Phoenix said sadly.

"Phoenix." Mitzeee soothed.

"He cries."

Mitzeee and Brendan exchanged a look.

"How is he so perceptive?"

Mitzeee shrugged. "Doesn't get it from his dad, that's for sure." She laughed, but there was a tinge of sadness to it.

"Come on, I'll get us some dinner, how's that?" Brendan offered. Phoenix's face lit up.

"You don't have to, Brendan."

"I'd like to." Brendan said. "What ye got in?"

Xxx

Later that evening when they'd eaten and Mitzeee and Phoenix were curled up asleep together on the sofa, Brendan made a few phone calls. He enquired about a particular flat nearby. Thankfully it had passed through so many hands that the landlord didn't know him. He offered Brendan the chance to view it the next day.

Brendan wished he could go back to his own place but he didn't know who was living there currently. This new flat would have to do in the meantime. His real home had been with Steven however, and he certainly couldn't stay there. He would have to settle for living right above him.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Ste stared at the black shirt with something like trepidation, fingers reaching out to touch the hem, fabric as soft as he remembered. The shirt held so many memories, not all of them good. The amount of times Brendan had pulled him close in this very shirt; the way he would smooth his hands over Ste's spine or reach underneath to stroke his soft belly. It was almost too much to bear and Ste would have bolted had his dad not walked in at that moment.

"You found it then?" He asked, expression unreadable.

Ste nodded numbly.

Sam sighed, sitting beside him on the bed. "You don't have to do this, son."

"I do." Ste said, voice unsteady. "I couldn't get that job at The Dog and I've been looking for ages. I can't keep living off you."

"I don't mind." Sam smiled kindly at him.

"I do, it's not me." Ste said, wincing a little as he stood up.

"You alright, son?" Sam asked, reaching for him in concern, his hands hovering in the air.

Ste rubbed his back absently. "Still gives me trouble sometimes."

Sam bowed his head, hiding the anxiety on his face. Ste could see it though, had seen it ever since his… accident, when his dad had first walked into his life.

"I'll be fine, honest."

"Don't lift anything too heavy."

"I won't." Ste grinned.

"I'll meet you there, I have a few calls to make." Sam told him. Ste nodded, taking the shirt off of the hanger and slipping it over his head. It was a little small; he'd grown in the last couple of years.

He walked out of the flat with his jacket on to brace himself against the cold. Before he went outside however he heard a rumble from above him and stopped in his tracks. Had someone moved into the flat upstairs? A few nights ago he had thought he'd heard something but had brushed it aside.

He wasn't sure if it was curiosity or delay tactics that took him up the stairs. After all, someone could have broken in and it was his duty to check. Or that's what he told himself anyway. He knocked confidently on the door.

"Hello?" He called through. The noise stopped abruptly. "Someone in there?" He asked, more warily now. There was no answer and Ste was beginning to get antsy. "Well if there's anything I can do for you…" Ste trailed off, wincing at himself.

He left after that, deciding that he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer. He made the familiar journey across the village, staring forlornly at the deli. Doug glanced through the window at him, his smile fading as he spotted him.

Ste turned his face away, that particular grievance not what he needed today. He wished he could go to Mitzeee's instead and spend the day with her and Phoenix. Mitzeee worked at the club too but it was her day off today. Ste wished she could be there, he wasn't sure he could do this alone.

He stared up at the building, the air sending chills through him. Or perhaps it was just him, it was difficult to tell. He remembered the last time he had looked properly up at the place, with Brendan no longer beside him. It had been over three years ago and yet Ste could still hear the screams and gunshot in his head. It kept him awake many a night; the nightmares all-encompassing and unbearable. Sometimes his dad would have to come in to his room and hold him for a while as he sobbed and shook in his arms. He felt safe with him even though they'd only been in each other's lives a short time. It hadn't started off that easily, but that was a thought for another day.

He gritted his teeth and went in through the back door. The club was already buzzing with life. Ste felt out of his comfort zone here, not to mention he hadn't had a full time job for a long time. He'd been out of action after the accident and since then had only done odd jobs to make a bit of money. He wasn't sure this was the place for him anymore. It had been easier when it had passed through other hands, but when his dad had come to the village two years ago he had gone for it, little knowing the meaning it held to Ste.

He walked up the stairs, feeling the tremors throughout his body. The place hadn't changed much and somehow the name had stuck through it's various owners. Ste had been able to tell his dad about Cheryl at least and Sam had been happy to keep the name, for Ste's comfort if nothing else. But all in all it was just a building. It shouldn't hold this much meaning to him anymore. It wasn't Brendan, nothing ever could be.

Even so, walking towards the office was a surreal experience. Ste found his hand hovering over the door handle, palms sweating profusely. A crash behind him startled him out of his stupor. He turned quickly, sighing in relief when he saw his dad mounting the stairs.

"Pick that crate up." He told one of the staff who had caused the noise. They did so quickly. People had a lot of respect for Sam. He wasn't intimidating; he was confident and poised. Ste couldn't believe he was related to him at all, or that Pauline had been with him for however short a time. His dad had told him they had been young when he was born, eighteen to be precise. Ste remembered being that young with his own children, the difference being he'd stuck around. That had been a sore point during their first few meetings but Ste figured no one was perfect, and he was the first person to offer a second chance to someone he thought deserved it.

"You mind going to the cash and carry, Steven?" Sam asked.

"Sure." Ste said, plastering a smile onto his face.

"The money's in the office."

Ste froze, glancing back at the door he had moments ago attempted to enter.

"Problem?" Sam questioned, giving him an odd look.

"No!" Ste said in what he attempted to be a bright voice. He backed slowly into the office, the door slamming shut behind him. He stared around, feeling trapped in the stifling coldness of the room. It wasn't how Brendan had left it. The desk and chair had changed, the colouring was wrong and the pictures weren't the same. Ste felt the familiar panic rise in his chest, his heart rate pumping erratically. He grabbed the bag of money and flew out of there, brushing past his dad fluidly, ignoring his protests.

The rush of cold air hit him full force. He hadn't taken a coat with him and he was shivering all over. Tears sprang into his eyes and made his vision blurry. Why was he reacting this way, after all this time? It had been the club; it wasn't right that he was there. He couldn't face the familiarity nor the differences. He clutched the bag with the money to his chest, feeling impossibly small. He didn't want to be that boy again; he had grown so much as a person before he'd been left. _Left. _The word reverberated around his head constantly. He'd been left behind, abandoned, cast aside.

He wasn't looking where he was going and unsurprisingly bumped into someone. A few someone's, actually.

"Watch where you're going you little runt!" One sneered.

"Who you calling a runt?" Ste shouted back, hitting the man squarely in the chest. That had been a mistake. One made a grab for the bag with the money but Ste clasped it tighter, pushing with his other arm with all the strength he had.

"Oi!" A voice shouted in the distance. It sounded vaguely familiar but Ste didn't have a moment to contemplate it. One of the men pushed him roughly against the wall, banging his head in the process. His vision started to go dark and he registered himself being supported before all went black.

Xxx

Brendan had settled into his new flat as best he could. Truth be told he only treated it as a place to hide out and rest his head at night. It would never feel like home and he sensed that this flat had seen almost as much trauma as Brendan himself had.

It felt good to be close to Steven though, even if he couldn't actually _be _close to him. He tried to keep quiet but the floorboards were impossibly loud. There was one particularly loud point in the room that Brendan often found himself absently stepping on. He'd gotten away with it for days until one afternoon Steven had come to his door, asking if anyone was in there. Just hearing his voice directed towards him was enough to send Brendan into a sweat. He kept deadly still, afraid to breathe even. Eventually Steven had left. Brendan watched him go out the window, giving a little start when he noticed what Steven was wearing. He really was going back to the club then.

Brendan remembered in the early days how mad that outfit had driven him. The way it had clung to all the right places, how it felt beneath his hands and against the lighter fabric of his suits. Brendan had disliked the deli uniform for many reasons. It hadn't suited Steven right; it was more Douglas than him. But seeing Steven wearing it now didn't feel him with desire or nostalgia, it made him ache with sadness and regret. It was his fault that Steven had gone back to the club, it had to be. He didn't know the circumstances of the fire but he very much doubted it would have happened had he been around.

Knowing he had to leave the house today spurred Brendan to follow soon after Steven had left. He still hadn't shaved, lest he was spotted by someone he knew. Eventually he would have to reveal himself to the village again. He was conscious of news spreading of his release, not that he'd told anyone besides Mitzeee, but the papers might eventually get wind of it. He hated the idea of Steven finding out second hand and thinking he had abandoned him again, but he hated the idea of polluting his life even more, so he kept his distance.

He saw Steven disappear into the club as he walked through the village. He needed to buy food but he knew he couldn't be seen. He braved a look into Price Slice and noted that the cashier was someone he didn't know. He ducked inside, picking out a few ready made meals hastily and some seedless jam out of habit before throwing them on the counter. He was just paying up when he saw Steven storm out of the club, looking deeply upset and troubled. Brendan snatched the bag off of the counter and strode after him, caution discarded.

He saw Steven walk straight into a group of men, saw the way they manhandled him and how he stood his ground. Brendan knew he could handle himself but not outnumbered and not in that state. He shouted out, trying to distort his voice as best he could. He needn't have bothered; Steven was thrown back against the wall, knocking him unconscious. Brendan ran towards him, hardly caring now if he was seen. He pulled him into his lap, cradling him close.

"Steven." He murmured, giving him a gentle shake.

"Brendan?" Steven muttered. He was completely out of it; Brendan scarcely thought he'd remember him once he was on his feet again.

"Steven!" Another voice called. It was Samuel. "What have you done to him?" He pushed Brendan roughly aside, not glancing at him.

"Nothing. A group of men-"

"Shut up and call an ambulance!"

Brendan gritted his teeth in frustration but did so anyway. Steven was starting to come around and Brendan couldn't be here when he did. When Samuel turned to him once more, he was faced with empty air.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Ste blinked slowly as everything came into focus once more. His dad was crouched in front of him, searching his face in concern.

"Steven?"

"Bren?" Ste found himself murmuring, hands reaching out blindly. But no, Brendan wasn't here. Brendan had never been here. Ste must have gotten confused; it was Sam in front of him, not Brendan.

"What?" Sam whispered urgently. "Steven?"

"Sorry." Ste shook his head, attempting to sit up.

"Don't move, the paramedics are coming."

"I'm fine, I just hit my head."

Sam smiled tightly. "I shouldn't have sent you out alone with all that money, it was misguided of me."

"I can be trusted." Ste responded indignantly.

"You misunderstand me. Of course you can be trusted, but it was too soon. I should have seen you weren't feeling up for it."

Ste found himself giggling at the phrase 'up for it', a distant memory threatening to overwhelm him. Sam looked at him, brow furrowed.

"They're here now, stay still." Sam went off to fetch the paramedics, leaving Ste on his own. He felt something warm covering him and was confused to see a dark coat draped across him.

"Whose is…?" Ste trailed off, feeling the smooth leather. He didn't recognise it but as he brought it close to his face, the smell hit him full force. He shook his head, thinking that he must be going insane. His heart was fluttering, his breath coming in short gasps. It wasn't Brendan, it couldn't _be _Brendan. He wasn't here, he never would be.

Ste picked himself up carefully, tottering away from the mass of people surrounding the ambulance car. His dad's back was to him, giving him the opportunity to slip away. He didn't know where he was going, nor did he care. Mitzeee's place was too close to all the activity so he stumbled elsewhere. He found himself climbing the stone steps, vision still out of focus. He had just reached the top when he heard a voice.

"Ste?" It was Doug. He bent down to pick him up by the shoulders. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Get off me, like you care." Ste pushed him roughly aside.

"You don't make it easy." Doug said, which was true. "I'm gonna call your dad."

"No!" Ste gasped. "He'll make me stay away, and I have to find him."

"Find who?" Doug asked, exasperation beginning to turn to concern.

"Brendan."

Xxx

"Anne!" Brendan rapped his knuckles on her front door, glancing rapidly behind himself.

She opened the door in one fluid motion, eyes wide. "Brendan? What on earth's the matter?"

Brendan slipped inside quickly, breathing heavily. "Steven."

"What's happened?" Mitzeee closed the door hastily.

"He got attacked."

"What? Is he okay?" Mitzeee asked fearfully.

"Yeah, Samuel was there." Brendan said darkly.

"Then what is it?"

"I… I held him." Brendan said shakily.

"You spoke to him?" Mitzeee asked incredulously.

"No. He didn't see me. Well, he did but ye know, he was out of it so-"

"Brendan!" Mitzeee gave him a gentle nudge. "What the hell are you playing at? What if he remembers?"

"He won't." Brendan said resolutely. He didn't feel that sure though.

Mitzeee stared at him in consternation. She opened her mouth to say more until her phone buzzed. She didn't take her eyes off of Brendan as she stepped back to answer it.

"Hello? Doug?" She sounded surprised. "What? Where is he?"

Brendan froze, staring at Mitzeee with unblinking eyes.

"I'm on my way." Mitzeee hung up, shooting Brendan a glare. "That was Doug. He found Ste outside your old flat in a right state."

"Is he okay?" Brendan stepped forwards, hands shaking visibly. The adrenaline and fear was pumping through him, somehow keeping him upright. Touching Steven again had sparked something inside of him. He wasn't so sure he could stay away now.

"He will be. You stay here; Phoenix is taking a nap. Don't go anywhere."

Brendan nodded numbly.

Xxx

Mitzeee tottered across the road, cursing herself inwardly for wearing her best heels on today of all days. It wasn't long before she came across the commotion near the alleyway. Sam was in her line of sight before she had a moment to compose herself.

"Sam!" She said, startled.

"Mitzeee," Sam replied, voice low. "Have you seen Steven? I'm very worried."

"Oh, yes," Mitzeee said quickly. "I'm just going to see him now."

"I'll accompany you." Sam responded, unwavering. Mitzeee knew there was no arguing with him.

"He's at Doug's."

This gave Sam pause. He was rarely ruffled and Mitzeee was startled to see how Ste's attack had unsettled him so heavily.

"Lead the way." He said after a moment's beat.

Doug let them in with a small grimace. He and Ste hadn't spoken in a long time, not since the fire. Mitzeee wanted to thank him for looking after Ste all the same but the words stuck in her throat at the sight of her best friend.

"Ste!" She rushed towards him, laying his head against her shoulder. "You look terrible."

"Thanks a bunch, Mitz." Ste slurred back at her.

"What's happened to him?" Mitzeee demanded, glancing between Sam and Doug.

"He hit his head on the wall." Sam replied, voice level. "The paramedics were about to check him over when he disappeared."

"Brendan!" Ste mumbled, grasping the front of Mitzeee's dress. "Where is he?"

Mitzeee stared at him in alarm, tears springing to her eyes. "Ste, love-"

"Steven, do you seem to think someone else was there?" Sam interjected.

"I… I don't know." Ste said, confused now.

"It was just me, son. No one else."

Mitzeee glanced up sharply at Sam. He stared back at her, expression giving nothing away.

"Oh." Ste said dully, deflating in Mitzeee's arms.

"It's still all about him, is it?" Doug asked bitingly. "I thought we were past all that."

"Doug," Mitzeee said warningly. "Leave it."

Doug pursed his lips, saying no more.

"I'll take him now." Sam said, giving Doug a brief glance.

"Maybe I should, my place is closer." Mitzeee said quickly. Brendan needed to see this; perhaps she could finally spur some resolve in him to come clean. It wasn't fair on Ste, or fair on her to lie for him. Apparently Sam had no such qualms, if he indeed even knew who Brendan was, or that he'd been with Ste earlier. Mitzeee stared at him again but he didn't meet her eyes this time.

"Alright. But he should really see a doctor first."

Mitzeee nodded grimly, helping Ste to his feet. "Lean on me." She told him.

"Where we going?" Ste asked groggily.

"To mine. Phoenix loves to play doctor, remember?"

"He'll get the flannel on me again."

Mitzeee smiled. "You love it really."

"I do." Ste admitted, head lolling on Mitzeee's shoulder.

Sam supported his other side, arm secure around his waist. He didn't say a word as they led Ste to the paramedic who checked him over for concussion and bleeding. Once he was given the all clear Mitzeee took him back to hers. She'd texted Brendan a warning while Ste had been checked over. She was both relieved and disappointed to see him vacant from the room when they arrived.

"Who's been watching Phoenix?" Ste asked, beginning to become more aware.

Mitzeee paused. "Nancy."

"Where is she now?"

"Probably in the bedroom." Mitzeee lied. "You lay down, love."

Ste didn't need much convincing. He settled himself comfortably on the sofa, resting his eyes. Mitzeee took that as an opportunity to slip quietly into her bedroom. Brendan was sitting on the edge of her bed, head in his hands.

Brendan looked up as she entered but before he could speak Mitzeee put a finger over her lips.

"Why did ye bring him here?" Brendan whispered urgently.

"To make you see sense. He needs you, Brendan."

"No." Brendan said shortly. "I'm no good for him. He needs to… move on."

"He's tried." Mitzeee pressed, exasperated. "But you left things so unfinished, you both need that closure, even if nothing else happens."

"It's not… I can't just…" Brendan trailed off, opening the door a crack. "Is he asleep?" He asked quietly.

Mitzeee peered over his shoulder. "Yeah, looks that way."

"Is that safe?"

"He hasn't got concussion. The knock to the head just left him disoriented for a while. He'll be fine once he sleeps it off."

"I'm surprised Samuel didn't want to take him home." Brendan commented, stepping out into the living room.

"He did, but I insisted." Mitzeee said softly. She watched as Brendan sat beside Ste on the sofa, raising his head to rest on his lap. "Brendan-"

"He won't wake up, he never used to." Brendan said calmly, trailing his fingers through Ste's hair.

"That was before, he doesn't sleep so well now."

"What do ye mean?" Brendan asked, frowning.

"After that night at the club, and the fire…" Mitzeee sighed. "He has pretty severe nightmares."

"All the more reason for me to stay clear." Brendan said confidently.

"You can't hide from this forever." Mitzeee told him. "And you obviously can't stay away from him either." She added, gesturing to the way Brendan was smoothing Ste's hair back from his forehead.

"When ye love someone, sometimes ye have to set them free." Brendan said quietly.

"Don't you think Ste deserves a choice in the matter though?" Mitzeee pressed. "It isn't fair to lie to him."

"Ye saw what he did today; it would be a thousand times worse if he knew I was here. Or maybe it wouldn't, I don't know how he feels anymore."

Ste shifted a little in his sleep, curling up into a ball.

Brendan smiled softly. "Thanks anyway, Anne."

Mitzeee sighed, knowing that she wouldn't get anywhere today. "You best go. Phoenix will be up soon."

"He's a sweet kid, a credit to ye." Brendan said, gently placing Ste's head on a pillow.

"Thank you." Mitzeee said, genuinely touched. "I'll call you, yeah?"

Brendan nodded, giving Ste another once over before disappearing out the front door.

Xxx

Ste's eyes felt like they were being peeled open when he eventually woke up. Phoenix was sitting beside him, laying his head against Ste's leg.

"Ste!" He said happily when he saw that he was awake.

"Hey," Ste replied croakily, opening his arms for Phoenix to slot into. "Where's your mum?"

"Right here." Mitzeee said, appearing with a coffee. "You were out for a while."

"I'm really sorry." Ste said groggily. "I must have sounded like a lunatic."

"Course not." Mitzeee answered gently, handing him the mug of coffee. "But Ste, maybe we should talk about the things you said."

Ste looked away, focusing in on the top of Phoenix's head. "I don't want to."

"Ste," Mitzeee reached forwards to take one of his hands in hers. "You clearly have some left over feelings for him. Don't you think you owe it to yourself to explore that?"

"Why? He's in prison." Ste said bitterly. "He won't let me see him, he's clearly forgotten all about me."

"I'm sure that isn't true." Mitzeee said softly. "What would you say to him if he was here right now?"

"I don't know." Ste admitted truthfully. "I'd probably want to hit him for leaving me, and kiss him because I miss him. But it's too much." He said, sniffling a little.

"Don't cry." Phoenix said sadly, wiping his face. "Brendan's here."

Ste blinked, smoothing his hand over Phoenix's soft hair. "No, Phoenix that's just a picture."

"No. Brendan's _here_."

"What?" Ste stared at the little boy in confusion.

"I've seen him." Phoenix said confidently. Ste looked up at Mitzeee, aghast.

"Is this true?"

Mitzeee looked incredibly uncomfortable. "I wanted to tell you, Ste." She said quietly.

Ste stood up abruptly, still feeling a little unsteady on his feet. "Are you telling me he really did help me after I got attacked?"

Mitzeee nodded, looking both relieved and worried to finally be revealing the truth.

"Where is he?" Ste asked quickly, but he already knew the answer. "I have to go."

"Ste!" Mitzeee jumped out of her seat. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am!" Ste was already half way to the door.

He found himself outside within moments. It was dark and there were people milling about on their way to the pub or the club. Mitzeee appeared behind him with Phoenix in her arms.

"Do you want us to come?"

"No, I gotta do this." Ste said, sounding more confident than he felt.

He went all the way home, suspecting correctly that Brendan was staying above him. There was no response from the flat however so he gave up with a final pound of his fist on the door.

He went back out to the village, scouring every face for signs of him. It was starting to rain and he felt himself getting soaked all the way through. Maybe this was another of his nightmares and soon he would wake up in his own bed, alone again and screaming. He turned towards the club, debating whether to go to his dad and seek comfort. It was what he always did after a nightmare. But then he saw a dark figure silhouetted against the lights of the club, hood pulled back, eyes dark, face half shrouded in thick hair.

"Brendan?" Ste called out, his voice sounded croaky and broken to his own ears.

The figure started and moved back, alarmed.

"Brendan!" Ste called more fiercely. "Don't you run away from me!" He hurtled towards him, completely soaked to his very bones now, getting closer and closer to that pure oblivion that was Brendan Brady.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Brendan liked it out in the prison yard. He felt less caged, more liberated in the strong breeze and glaring sun. He kept to himself for the most part, except when Warren decided to bother him. Unfortunately today was one of those days.

"Brady." Warren said, more surly than usual.

"Ye are blocking my sun, Foxy." Brendan murmured, shielding his eyes. Warren's hulking figure may have been intimidating to some but not to Brendan. It wasn't as though he had anything to fear now; he had nothing left to lose.

"Did you meet with your solicitor?"

Brendan sat up, frowning. "What's it to ye?"

"Did he tell you who got the club?"

Brendan laughed, incredulous. "Ye still care about that place?"

"Course." Warren crossed his arms in aggravation. "Well?"

Brendan's expression darkened. "Let's just say the last person I wanted to run it, got it." He bit his lip, trying to contain the anger he'd come outside to calm down from.

"Who?" Warren demanded.

"Browning." Brendan said distastefully. "And someone called Clare Devine."

Warren froze then, eyes bulging at an impressive intensity. "You are fucking joking."

"I wish." Brendan said, taking a deep breath and lying back down. "Now, fuck off please."

"Clare Devine?" Warren muttered the name to himself like a prayer.

"Ye know her?"

"You could say that." Warren said darkly.

Brendan couldn't bring himself to care. "Well if that's all…"

Warren turned to glare at him then. "Aren't you going to do anything about it? That's our club."

"_My _club." Brendan corrected him. "And no, nothing I could do, even if I wanted to."

"Don't you care?" Warren tried a new tact.

Brendan shrugged. "What can I say? It's just a building to me now."

Brendan remembered that conversation as he stared up at Chez Chez; another new owner in place and yet Brendan was still filled with an empty feeling of indifference. Perhaps he'd lost his love for it after what had happened, or almost happened, that final night he'd been inside. It was tainted now and he knew it was for Steven too.

He pulled back his hood, sniffing the air and enjoying the freedom that surrounded him on all sides. He could literally go anywhere and yet he stayed here, haunted by memories and regret, no place to call home. He had a great deal of money to his name too, thanks to the club's first exchange of hands. What was keeping him here?

His answer came in the form of a voice.

"Brendan?"

Brendan froze, paralysed with fear. No. This couldn't be happening. No.

"Brendan!" The voice called again, angry now. "Don't you run away from me!"

Brendan hadn't realised he'd even moved. The rain was hitting him hard in the face, near blinding him. He could see someone rushing towards him and he knew who it was without even seeing their face. He wasn't ready for this, would never be ready for this.

_Steven. _

The recognition became clearer on Steven's face as he drew nearer. He was only several feet away and not slowing down. Brendan didn't know what he was about to do. Attack him? Kiss him? Instead he barrelled straight into him, almost knocking Brendan off his feet. It took Brendan a moment to register what was happening, so overwhelmed by the contact as he was. Steven was clinging to him for dear life, arms tight around his neck, nose buried against his shoulder. Brendan clung back, arms wrapped around his small waist, almost lifting him off the ground.

"Steven." He murmured, afraid to break the spell but incredulous all the same that he was in his arms once more.

"You came back." Steven choked out. "You're here."

"I'm here." Brendan repeated, holding him even closer. "I'm not going anywhere." He wasn't sure it was the time to make such promises but having Steven in his arms again made him abandon all sense of reason.

Steven pulled back then, eyelashes dripping wet from the rain or tears, Brendan wasn't sure. He frowned at him, pulling further away.

"I'm angry at you." He said, but made no move to let go completely.

"I know." Brendan replied, hand still tight on Steven's waist. "I'm sorry."

"Is that all you can say? Sorry?" Steven was growing angry now. Somehow this made him pull even closer to Brendan once more.

"I don't know what I can say." Brendan told him quietly, hand reaching up of its own accord to cup Steven's face.

"Three and a half years, Bren. Without you."

"I know." Brendan mumbled, casting his eyes away from Steven's face. It was almost painful to look at him. He was so beautiful, just as Brendan remembered.

"I thought you got life."

Brendan shook his head. "I knew ye would move on easier if ye thought that."

"Well, I didn't." Steven said bluntly. His tone was sharp, annoyed and yet his body was telling a different story. His face was inches from Brendan's now, lips slightly parted.

"Fuck." Brendan breathed, curling his fingers around the back of Steven's head. "I've missed ye."

"That's not fair." Steven said, softer now.

"Please, just…" Brendan pulled him towards him, lips impossibly close.

"If you think I'm gonna just-"

Brendan kissed him then, unable to stop himself. Steven responded immediately, pushing himself against Brendan's body, grinding into him. They gasped into each other's mouths, tasting and exploring. It was over far too quickly. Steven pulled away suddenly, touching his lips in awe.

He looked up at Brendan, eyes wide and impossibly blue. He was like a startled animal.

"I can't." He said, darting away.

"No." Brendan said. It came out strangled and broken. "Steven!" He ran after him, ignoring the rain still pelting down on them, the rolling thunder overhead.

"I can't, Brendan!" Steven screamed, fleeing.

"Please, we need to talk!" Brendan called after him. He would not lose him now, he couldn't. He could still taste him in his mouth, feel the weight of him in his arms. "Steven!"

Steven stopped, collapsing to the ground as though wounded. "Brendan." he sobbed, his small body shaking and heaving.

"Shh, don't." Brendan wrapped his arms around him once more, shielding him from the downpour.

"Please." Steven begged, fingers digging into Brendan's arm.

"I'll take ye home, okay? We'll talk."

"Okay." Steven agreed, calmer now.

They went back to Brendan's for the privacy if nothing else. Brendan grabbed some towels from the bathroom, wrapping one around Steven's shoulders first. Steven shuddered, teeth chattering together.

"Ye want a shower?" Brendan offered.

Steven nodded. "You really live here?"

"It'll do for now." Brendan replied, staring around the place.

"Why here?" Steven asked, shrugging the towel off.

"Well, ye know…" Brendan trailed off awkwardly.

"I do." Steven said quietly. "I came here first when I realised you were… back."

"How did ye know?" Brendan asked curiously.

"Phoenix." Steven said, smiling sheepishly.

"Makes sense." Brendan nodded.

"Why didn't you tell him not to say anything?"

Brendan looked at him steadily. "I wouldn't ask a child to lie for me."

"Like I did with Leah you mean?"

"That's not what I meant." Brendan said tiredly. "I'll get the hot water running for ye." He added, moving away.

Steven grabbed his wrist reflexively. He looked utterly petrified.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere." Brendan said softly, moving close to hold his face in his hands.

"I'm an idiot." Steven said, laughing.

"I'm the idiot, for not coming straight to ye." Brendan said, pulling away to go to the bathroom.

Steven followed him, leaning against the doorframe. "Why didn't you?"

Brendan turned the shower on before turning back to him. "I thought it was for the best."

Steven rolled his eyes. "Another pact with God?"

Brendan couldn't help smiling at that. "Not quite."

"I wish people would stop pretending to know what's best for me." Steven sighed heavily. "I'm a grown man, I can make my own decisions."

"Someone else bothering ye?" Brendan asked coyly.

Steven shot him a look. "What do you mean?"

"Besides me?"

Steven frowned a little. "My… dad."

"Yer dad." Brendan repeated.

"I'm guessing you know about him?"

"We met, briefly."

"When?" Steven asked incredulously. Then hesitated. "The attack."

"Did he say that I was there?" Brendan asked curiously.

"No. But he doesn't know you." Steven said carefully.

"Ye never mentioned me?" Brendan smiled a little sadly. Steven looked apologetic.

"It wasn't easy, talking about you." He said quietly.

"Course." Brendan murmured, glancing at the shower. "Should be hot enough."

"Right." Steven said awkwardly. They stood facing each other for several moments.

"I should…" Brendan trailed off.

Steven laughed nervously. "You've seen it all before."

"I know but…" Brendan couldn't take his eyes off him.

"You must be cold too."

"I can wait."

Steven nodded. Neither of them made a move to leave. Slowly Steven began to take off his clothes.

"I've lost weight." He said unnecessarily.

"Doesn't matter." Brendan replied, eyes raking over Steven's body.

"Can you…?" Steven gestured to Brendan's own clothes, blushing.

Brendan nodded quickly, shrugging his shirt off. Steven's eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest.

"I had a lot of time to work out."

"I can see that." Steven grinned then, toying with the front of his trousers.

"I never thought I'd see ye in those again."

"Me neither." Steven admitted.

"Ye don't have to work there." Brendan told him, unzipping himself.

"I know. Dad wants me to though."

"Steven…" Brendan trailed off, unsure how to phrase his question without offending him.

"You're wondering why I trust him." Steven finished for him. He always knew Brendan better than he knew himself.

"Yeah." Brendan murmured, stepping towards the shower.

"I don't know really." Steven admitted, following Brendan's path. "He came into my life at a difficult time and I just… needed him, I guess."

"Steven…" Brendan didn't know what to say. He climbed into the shower, gesturing for Steven to do the same.

"I know I should have got through it on my own." Steven said sheepishly. "But it's never as easy as that and I had _no one_."

"What about Douglas?"

Something flashed across Steven's face. "We fell out."

"Why?"

"It's a long story."

Brendan sensed it wasn't a story Steven wanted to share just yet. It was taking most of his self control to not look down between Steven's legs.

"This is proper weird." Steven said, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Two men naked in the shower together? Not that weird."

"But it's _us.__"_ Steven said, without needing to say more.

"I won't jump ye, promise."

"It wouldn't be right I don't think." Steven said with apparent difficulty. He turned around to allow the water to hit his face. Brendan's eyes darted towards his arse, unable to resist any longer.

"I know you're looking." Steven said, the smile evident in his voice.

"No." Brendan said. He couldn't look away now his eyes had focused in on it.

"It's okay." Steven said, turning to look at him over his shoulder. "There isn't anyone else."

Brendan let out a breath, hardly aware it was something that had been bothering him.

"That doesn't mean…" Steven trailed off, expression more guarded now.

"I know." Brendan said quickly. "Will ye stay tonight though? With me?"

"You want me to?"

Brendan nodded, swallowing heavily. "Be nice to sleep properly. It's… been a while."

"Same." Steven said, turning his face away.

"We can talk properly in the morning." Brendan offered, lathering himself in body wash.

Steven turned around, his own eyes darting downwards. "Right. Yep." He said, voice high.

Brendan smiled slowly. "He's missed ye."

"Brendan!" Steven scolded him, mock scandalised.

"I've missed ye."

"You told me that already." Steven said, eyes softer.

"It's true."

Steven sighed, swapping positions so Brendan could feel the heat of the water. He pulled a towel around himself, mussing his hair back to normal.

"My dad will wonder where I am."

"Let him wonder." Brendan said. "Ye are a grown man, remember?"

Steven considered this. "True." He stepped out of the shower, sitting on the edge of the toilet seat while he waited for Brendan to finish. "Did we seriously just shower without touching each other?"

"I'd call that progress." Brendan said, taking a towel off the rack.

"What now though?"

"We sleep I suppose." Brendan said carefully. "That okay?"

"Course. I'm knackered." Steven yawned for effect.

"Come on then." Brendan offered him a hand, feeling a tremor throughout his body at the idea of Steven rejecting him. He took it willingly however, allowing Brendan to steer him towards the bedroom. "I have a shirt ye could wear." Brendan offered, putting his boxers on.

"Thanks." Steven said, taking the offered clothing. "Mine are soaked through."

"Quite the reunion." Brendan grinned.

"Not quite how I imagined it."

"Yeah? How did ye imagine it?" Brendan asked, pulling the duvet back.

"I dunno really. Slow motion running into each other's arms?"

"Ye ran right into me."

"I know." Steven grinned, pleased with himself.

"Glad it amuses ye. Scared the life out of me."

"Serves you right for trying to run."

"I wasn't-"

"Bren," Steven interjected. He'd already climbed into bed. "Come on."

Brendan followed suit, pulling the duvet over the two of them.

"What now?" Brendan asked, feeling impossibly awkward. It was like being a teenager again.

"Come here." Steven said, laying his head against the pillow and opening his arms.

"I might not be able to stop." Brendan admitted, frightened.

"It's okay." Steven murmured. Brendan didn't need telling twice. He slotted himself into Steven's arms, tangling their legs together and pulling their bodies impossibly close.

"Jesus." Brendan breathed, pushing his face against Steven's neck. Steven trembled a little in his arms.

"I never thought this could happen again." He admitted quietly. "Am I dreaming?"

Brendan remembered the first time he had asked him that and held him tighter. "No, it's real."

"Good." Steven said a little shakily. They were silent for a few moments. Brendan stroked the back of Steven's neck absently, wondering if it would be possible to drift off to sleep knowing he was here after all this time. "Bren?" Steven asked, voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Don't let go." Steven said. He had never sounded more scared. Brendan realised there was more to be talked about in the morning. This wasn't the same Steven he had left behind.

"I won't." He promised, kissing the top of his head. Somehow Steven had lowered himself more securely into Brendan's arms. He turned over, pushing his back against Brendan's chest.

"Night, Bren." He said quietly.

Brendan couldn't trust himself to reply. He gave him a final squeeze and closed his eyes; prepared to have the best night's sleep he'd had in years.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Ste stared up at the deli, his deli, and frowned deeply. He had worked so hard to get here; to own his own business, to be independent. Now that he had it however, it felt completely irrelevant without someone to share it with. For the past few months, nearing on a year, Ste had been living in an almost limbo state. He went out some nights, got drunk, hooked up with a random guy who couldn't really give him what he needed, then left while he slept, not bothering to leave his number.

He saw his kids as often as Amy allowed but even that wasn't enough. It felt as though he was a passer-by in their lives; not something regular and concrete. Leah would ask after Brendan often, would draw him pictures to cheer him up, she would say, wherever he was. Amy had been reluctant to tell the kids of Brendan's whereabouts but she hadn't been around when Brendan had grown close to them. Leah especially needed answers; if nothing else to wonder why her daddy was always so sad these days.

Eventually, Ste decided on telling them that Brendan was tucked away somewhere with other men who needed… help. Leah had asked why in an indignant sort of way, had told Ste sternly that Brendan may get angry sometimes but there was nothing wrong with him. Ste had smiled at that, had assured her that Brendan was sad and needed to get better. Leah had been confused, had wondered why Ste wasn't there with him because _he _was sad too. Ste wondered that himself often enough but he already felt Amy's severe gaze on him, waiting for him to do something foolish and get himself banged up with Brendan.

It wouldn't help, he told himself, but boy did he try.

He wasn't stupid, and he certainly wouldn't deprive his kids of a father but he often imagined the different ways he could get sent inside for petty crimes, maybe just for a short stretch, a month or two. Brendan had a life imprisonment, as far as Ste was aware, and he hated prison. He _needed _Ste, just like he always had. Ste couldn't bear the thought of him being alone. He didn't much like being alone himself.

Eventually however, the idea departed him. He grew angry and resentful, wondering how he could live every day of his life without him there, and hating himself that it was so necessary to have him there in the first place. Ste hated the fact that he was so dependent on Brendan for his state of mind. Throughout their tumultuous relationship he had acknowledged many a time how unhealthy they were for each other and yet even when he had hated him, it had felt good to have him nearby. In a strange way it was comforting, as well as confusing.

He grew tired of the one-night stands and spent more evenings alone, drinking and trying to block everything out. Amy grew more and more worried about him and yet still refused to bring the kids back. It wasn't good for them, she said, to see him like that. But why couldn't she see how desperately he needed them in his life? They were everything; they always had been.

The deli was the last thing besides his grotty flat that he could call his own, but even that he had to share. He knew it was unreasonable and selfish but he grew ever resentful of Doug being around. He kept trying to talk to Ste, to make him see sense over his behaviour. He was trying to be a good friend, Ste knew that, but it was all so suffocating and he could hardly bear it.

Doug dated that McQueen for a while and that riled Ste up even more. Not for the fact they were dating, but that John Paul was always _around, _reminding him that sometimes he wasn't enough for Brendan, that sometimes a casual shag was preferable to being with Ste. In turn it reminded him that Brendan wasn't _here_, that he'd _left _him, and that was enough to drive Ste mad.

He knew it was stupid but one evening as he gazed up at the deli, anger and fear burning inside of him at every moment, he decided to do something reckless, something he hadn't done since he was a teenager. He stole some cigarettes from Price Slice, deciding that he could pay for them in the morning if he was still conscious and armed with a bottle of vodka as well, set himself up in the deli and drank and smoked himself into a stupor.

It wasn't enough though and Ste found himself doing some cooking, cigarette poking out of the corner of his mouth as he baked. Cooking had soothed him once but now all it reminded him of was that night with Brendan when he'd made the dough ring to propose. It was almost possible now for that to be a reality; he and Doug had mutually decided to file for divorce some time ago, and soon enough he would be free once more, not that it really made much difference.

At some point he gave up on the cooking and continued smoking and drinking. He was slumped against the far wall, facing the oven. He dropped his half lit cigarette to the floor, lighting another rather than reaching across to grab it. Little did he realise that the oven was still on and slightly ajar, gas streaming out colourless and invisible. They'd had some trouble with it for some time and Doug was in the process of getting it fixed. It was a moot point.

Ste didn't really remember the blast, or that the force had knocked him flying to the side, his head and back crashing with the adjacent wall. He didn't remember the roaring flames surrounding him, or the smoke alarm beeping feebly above him. He didn't even remember being rescued by the firemen, or how he was loaded into an ambulance.

Once again he was alone. Doug didn't hear about the fire until a few hours later. No one special had rescued Ste from the blaze, no one visited him in hospital for days. They had deemed it an accident, a gas leak. But Doug suspected Ste's involvement from the start and it led to several heated arguments between them; eventually resulting in a break from their tenuous partnership. Amy had brought the kids to visit a few times but it was all too upsetting for them.

Ste wondered idly if someone would tell Brendan, if he would finally agree to see him. No such information reached him. A week after the fire and Ste was all alone, holed up in a ward with an aching back, still sensitive from his accident the year before, and a pounding headache. He began to wonder if this would be his life from now on: just him.

And that was the moment Samuel Spencer came into his life and somehow made everything much better.

Xxx

Brendan awoke that morning as though pulled from a very deep sleep. It was the first time in years that he had slept throughout the night and it took his mind and body a while to adjust to the restful feeling that overcame him.

Steven was still sound asleep and tucked up against Brendan's side, the slanting sunlight across his face, lighting up his beautiful features. His eyelashes were still impossibly long and made Brendan ache in a new way for the years lost. The faint lines he saw on Steven's face hadn't been there before. He kissed each one, savouring the passing of time and hoping that he would never be parted from him again.

He daren't move to sit up, lest he disturb the sleeping man. Steven seemed to be in a deep slumber and Brendan hoped he had slept that way all night and that the nightmares he'd been told of hadn't occurred. It was all so infinitely precious and Brendan was scared to break the spell over them. It was only when he heard a faint buzzing sound from the living room that Steven stirred, eyes opening slowly and blinking at the blinding light.

"Is that my phone?" He asked groggily, voice slurred with sleep.

"Think so." Brendan whispered back.

Steven glanced up at him in surprise, as though forgetful of the fact Brendan was really here.

"You." He said wonderingly.

"Me." Brendan agreed, slight curve to his lips. "Ye okay?"

"God, yes." Steven murmured, and stretched himself out like a cat. "Best night's sleep in ages, that."

"Same." Brendan said mildly. "Is that the only reason?"

Steven glanced up at him and it was startling how much it reminded Brendan of that first night together. The lines Brendan had seen previously were no longer visible, except the smile lines Steven wore now; but they were a much more welcome sight.

"Fishing for compliments are we?" He teased, showing his teeth.

"Maybe, it's been a while." Brendan admitted.

Steven turned his head a little, hiding his face.

"Hey," Brendan said softly, stroking his chin. "What did I say?"

"Nothing." Steven said, but there was obviously something bothering him. "I'd better check my phone."

He carefully extricated himself from the bed and Brendan's arms, glancing back sheepishly to smooth his t-shirt down before he padded out of the room. Brendan felt the loss of him like a cold gust of air. He followed him after a beat, walking towards the kitchen to switch the kettle on while Steven checked his phone.

"Mitzeee." He told Brendan. "She covered for me with dad, said I fell asleep at hers."

"Good girl." Brendan murmured, but something nagged at him. "Shouldn't we tell him though?"

"Tell him what?" Steven asked, confused.

"About me."

Something flashed across Steven's face, something unmistakeably like fear.

"Yeah, maybe." He said airily, turning away.

Brendan sensed the brush off but didn't push it, not now he finally had Steven back.

"I'll make us some breakfast." He offered.

"You?" Steven asked, his tone lighter. Brendan felt himself relax as a result.

"Did a few classes inside, thought I'd impress ye."

"So you knew you'd be back?" Steven asked, coming into the kitchen now and leaning against one of the cabinets.

"I always hoped to, but I never knew for sure. I got seven years initially."

"How did you get out so quick?" Steven asked curiously.

"Good behaviour, if ye would believe it. Rehabilitation classes, counselling. I did it all."

"And it helped?" Steven looked interested.

"In its way. Ye know me, Steven; I tend to sort things out on my own terms."

Steven nodded, absently scratching the back of his neck. "You're here now anyway, that's what counts."

"Right." Brendan agreed. There would be plenty of time for catch up sessions later. Brendan wanted to feed them; Steven especially looked like he needed a good meal.

"Egg on toast do ye?"

Steven nodded, drifting around the room as though he needed something to occupy himself while Brendan cooked.

Brendan turned a little, watching him out of the corner of his eye. He wanted him to talk in that incessant way he used to. He remembered how calming it was and how much he had missed it. But Steven seemed distracted and on edge. Brendan turned the gas off and moved towards him, placing a gentle hand on Steven's arm to gain his attention. Steven jumped at the contact.

"Hey," Brendan said softly. "Sorry."

"S'okay." Steven said mildly, attempting a smile.

"What's wrong?" Brendan asked, frowning.

"Nothing." Steven answered quietly, but he wouldn't look Brendan in the eye.

"Tell me." Brendan said, persistent as ever. He didn't like the idea of Steven being secretive with him. It was an old habit but he had to know everything, more than ever now he had missed so much.

Steven sighed, rocking backwards on his heels. "It's my dad." He said so softly Brendan almost didn't hear him.

"What about him?" Brendan tensed immediately.

"Don't panic." Steven said quickly, sensing the change in Brendan. "He's fine, I'm fine."

"But?" Brendan pressed, still wary.

"I don't know how he's going to react." Steven said slowly, eyes wide.

"To…" Brendan trailed off, prompting him to continue.

"You." Steven said, eyes darting away guiltily from Brendan's face.

"Oh." Brendan's earlier assessment of Steven's reaction regarding his dad had been correct.

Steven stepped forwards, hands outstretched. "I'm not saying I won't tell him, of course not."

"He knows ye are gay?"

Steven nodded. "But he's dead protective of me. I haven't really been with anyone for a-" He cut himself off, apologetic.

"There's been others, since me." Brendan said, his voice flat.

"Nothing serious, ever. Just…" Steven bit his lip, uncomfortable.

Brendan bristled and turned away, not wanting Steven to see his face.

"You wanted me to move on." Steven said, almost accusingly.

"I know." Brendan replied, trying to keep the possessive edge out of his voice. "It's okay, of course it is."

"But it's not." Steven said quietly. "I've upset you."

"Steven," Brendan turned then, smoothing out his features. "Ye had every right to do that. Ye thought I was gone for good."

"And you wouldn't let me see you." Steven added, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

"Ye know I had my reasons." Brendan said quietly.

"But you never…" Steven trailed off, his arms raising in annoyance before he lowered them, catching himself. "You never think how I might feel about it."

"Of course I do." Brendan said, surprised. "I always think about ye, always."

"That's not what I meant." Steven said, frowning. "You think you know what's best for me but you don't."

"All I know is I'm not what's best for ye." Brendan said, sadness colouring his voice.

"Tough." Steven said, crossing his arms.

"Why do ye have to be so stubborn?" Brendan asked, exasperated.

"Why do _you_?" Steven bit back, but then he laughed. "I've really missed you."

Brendan found himself smiling. "Come here."

"Why don't you come here?" Steven suggested teasingly.

Brendan cocked an eyebrow. "Is that how ye want it, eh?"

"Maybe." Steven said, playful edge to his voice.

Brendan took a step forwards, prompting Steven to take one back.

"Ye know I can catch ye before ye run."

"I dunno, I'm pretty quick."

"Wanna bet?"

"What's the bet?" Steven asked confidently.

Brendan considered this. "If I catch ye…"

"Yeah?" Steven had one leg behind him, poised to run when necessary.

"I want ye to tell me something."

Steven frowned then. "What is it though?"

"Ah, now that would be telling."

Steven pursed his lips, deliberating. "Deal." He said eventually.

"And if I don't catch ye…" Brendan began, lips twitching in amusement. "But I will anyway so."

"If you don't, you have to tell _me _something."

"Deal." Brendan said. Before he had the chance to collect himself, Steven was off. He darted towards the sofa, placing it between himself and Brendan. "Not fair." Brendan murmured, moving closer.

Steven grinned wickedly, making a sudden dash down the hall. Brendan pursued him effortlessly, pausing in the middle of his stride to listen out for what room Steven had hidden in. It wasn't difficult to work out. Brendan crept quietly into the bedroom, lunging across the bed to grab Steven from behind. His hands clutched at empty air however. Steven sniggered from behind him, darting once more out of sight.

Brendan laughed freely as he chased after him. He had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to be happy again.

Eventually he caught up with him, trapping him in the bathroom. He grasped his waist and pulled him towards him, Steven grinning from ear to ear.

"You've caught me." He said softly, eyes dancing in amusement.

"I ain't letting go." Brendan replied, completely serious.

Steven's smile faded a little. "What was your question then?"

Brendan brushed his hand gently over his face. "Tell me about the fire, and yer dad."

"That's two things." Steven said shakily.

"I know, but I need to know." Brendan said steadily.

Steven nodded, a little unsure of himself. "Okay."


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

"Who are you?" Ste asked, peering at the man at the foot of his bed. He must have been around mid-forties, sandy haired, strong build. Ste felt insignificant in comparison, especially with all his bandages.

"Steven Hay?" The man asked. His voice was deep and it sent a thrill through Ste.

"Do I know you?" He asked warily.

"No." The man said mildly, taking a seat at the end of Ste's bed, ignoring the more accessible chair beside him. "But I know you, I think."

"What?" Ste suddenly felt afraid. He remembered Simon Walker and how fixated he had been on destroying everything; how he had sought them out and relentlessly done everything in his power to bring them down. This man in comparison seemed friendly enough though, and open. Ste wasn't entirely sure he trusted that assertion though. His instincts lately were shot to pieces, considering everything he had been through.

"Don't be scared." The man said calmly. "I've been looking for you for some time now. I knew your mother, Pauline."

Ste felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. "I don't see her anymore so whatever trouble she's in, it's got nothing to do with me." Ste said quickly.

The man laughed and it was a strangely pleasant sound. "You misunderstand me. I knew her a very long time ago, when I was only a teenager."

"Yeah?" Ste answered, unsure where this was going. "What do you want me for then? I can't tell you anything, we don't even speak."

He looked troubled by this but unsurprised. "Steven…" he began uncomfortably. "I'm your father."

Ste stared at him blankly. "My dad?" he eventually managed to say. The man nodded, faint smile across his lips. "You sure about that?"

"Positive. But of course if you need proof, a DNA test will be more than reasonable."

Ste nodded slowly, hardly able to believe it.

"Where you been then?" He asked bluntly, straight to the point.

The man laughed a little. "It's a long story, Steven."

"I've got time." Ste replied, gesturing to his bed bound state. "Let's hear it then." He paused, searching for something to call him.

"Samuel Spencer." He said, holding out a hand.

"Right." Ste said, ignoring the hand.

Sam laughed again, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I like you already."

"I have that effect." Ste said sarcastically.

"I'll bet." Sam said, eyes sparkling. "Where would you like me to start then?"

"From the beginning would be helpful."

The smile didn't leave Sam's face. "I met your mother when I was eighteen, her seventeen. I was working in construction and her and her friends used to pass us by, making comments."

"Sounds about right." Ste muttered to himself.

Sam continued as though Ste hadn't interrupted. "We chatted occasionally, got to know each other. I invited her to a few parties."

"Wait." Ste put his hand up, wincing at the pain shooting down his arm as he did so. "If you're about to tell me I was conceived while you were drunk at some party, I don't want to hear it."

Sam laughed again, and Ste was struck with its familiarity. It made him ache in a new way.

"No, Steven. The party was where we first… grew acquainted with each other. We dated for a little while after that. I won't lie to you; it wasn't the most… ah, romantic of pairings."

Ste rolled his eyes. "No need to tell me that, mate."

Sam nodded, eyeing him carefully. "To cut a long story short, a few weeks after we'd first got together, Pauline told me she was pregnant. I was… young, and stupid. I didn't believe her at first but the dates matched, as long as she hadn't been playing away." Sam glanced at him apologetically but Ste simply shrugged. "Anyway, after some reflection I agreed to stand by her. I still had my job and could provide for her, and you. But…"

Ste was staring at him in complete fascination now. "What happened?"

Sam sighed deeply. "You're obviously familiar with Terry Hay?"

Ste turned away, insides clenching. "I am."

Sam looked at him sadly. "When I searched for you it took me a long time; I didn't know you'd have his name. I assumed you'd have your mother's."

Ste forced himself to remain calm. "Go on."

"He'd loved Pauline for a while, since school apparently. They were one of those on-off couples, you know the type."

Ste bit his lip, stomach churning uncomfortably.

"He threatened me, claimed that I'd moved in on his territory. I hadn't known anything about him but Pauline assured me they weren't together when we were. She was keen to get rid of him really, and must have known I'd offer her more security with a baby on the way. But alas, it wasn't meant to be."

"And?" Ste prompted, completely engrossed now; Pauline hadn't told him any of this.

"Terry got me fired from my job. He dogged her until she gave in, agreed to stay with him. I had no choice."

Ste felt his anger flaring up then.

"You had every choice." He said bitterly. "You left me with that monster."

Sam's eyes flashed fearfully then. "He hurt you?"

Ste looked away, not wanting this man's sympathy. "None of your business."

"I'm so sorry, Steven." Sam said imploringly. "I tried to have contact after you were born but Terry wouldn't let me near. I even tried to get the police involved but Pauline put Terry on the birth certificate."

"And so I became a Hay." Ste said bitterly, tears springing to his eyes. "A lifetime of misery and neglect because you wouldn't fight for me. Why will _no one _fight for me?"

Sam reached out as though to comfort him but seemingly thought better of it.

"Was he always terrible to you?"

"Not always." Ste said quietly. "He went away sometimes, and Mum would cry and curse and sleep with other men. But he'd always come back." Ste's eyes were unseeing now, glazed over with tears. "Why did he have to come back?"

Sam couldn't seem to contain himself any longer. He reached over to grasp Ste's hand.

"I will make it up to you, Steven. I promise you."

Ste looked at him and felt his instincts screaming at him not to trust again, not to let someone look after him because chances were they'd leave him all over again. This man couldn't be any different.

"I can't, not right now." Ste said bleakly, taking his hand away. He looked away into the far corner, willing the tears to stop.

"I'll come back another day." Sam promised, standing. "Whatever you want, Steven."

When he left the room, Ste found himself aching even more with loneliness and doubt. He hated to admit it to himself but he did need someone and a part of him longed to know who he really was; if this man was mirrored in him, or not. He remembered Brendan telling him that he couldn't possibly understand how it felt to be linked by blood, to be wired the same. Even though he wasn't around to see it, Ste was glad to be able to prove him wrong.

Xxx

"Steven?" Brendan touched his face gently, as though afraid to startle him.

"What?" Ste stared at him blankly.

"Ye went really quiet." Brendan said softly, concern etched onto his features.

"Oh." Ste answered feebly. "I was just thinking."

"Was it too much telling me all that?" Brendan asked carefully. "Or is it me being here? Ye know ye only have to say the word and-"

"No." Ste said firmly, perhaps a little too firmly. "I mean, I do want you here." He added, calmer.

Brendan seemed to relax at his words. They had spent the best part of an hour discussing the fire and Ste's first meeting with his dad. Ste could tell Brendan had a million questions to ask but he was holding back in case he upset Ste.

Ste sighed heavily. "What do you want to know?" He asked.

Brendan blinked, surprised. "It can wait."

"No, go on." Ste leaned back against the sofa's cushions, closing his eyes. "Ask away."

"Ye sure?"

"Course."

Ste felt the dip in the sofa as Brendan stood. Ste opened his eyes, peering at Brendan pacing across the room.

"Why did ye steal the cigarettes and go drinking like that? It isn't who ye are."

"It's… complicated." Ste said evasively. "When you left I… didn't cope very well, and I fell into certain habits I wouldn't normally."

Brendan winced as though Ste had physically struck him.

"I'm not blaming you." Ste said quickly. "It was a bad time. The kids were gone, I had no one."

"Whose fault was that though?" Brendan said, agonised.

Ste grew angry. "Can you not do that? I'm trying to be honest here and you're making it difficult."

"I'm sorry." Brendan said dully.

"I don't want you to be sorry." Ste said firmly. "I just want you to listen."

"Okay." Brendan sat back down, hands clasped in front of him. "Another question."

"Go on."

"Yer dad…" Brendan hesitated then. "How do ye know ye can trust him? That he's who he says he is?"

"We got the DNA test." Ste replied. "I have the results downstairs if you wanna see."

"Not necessary." Brendan said quickly. "But…"

"But what? He's been good to me the last few years. He's not a bad guy, he's made mistakes but who hasn't?" Ste stared at Brendan levelly.

"I just want to make sure ye are safe, Steven. That's all." Brendan said tiredly.

"Alright." Ste said, a little defensive for some reason. "Anything else?"

Brendan paused then and Ste had to turn towards him questioningly. "What?"

"Can I kiss ye?" Brendan's voice was quiet, his eyes sad.

Ste was caught off-guard momentarily. It was just like Brendan to work him up like that one minute and then completely disarm him the next.

"Um…" Ste licked his lips unconsciously. "If you want."

Brendan stared into his eyes, slowly bringing his hand up to cup Ste's face. His gaze flickered down to his lips as he leaned in, breath already warm against Ste's mouth. He paused when they were inches apart, meeting Ste's eyes for confirmation. Ste gave the barest hint of a nod and then Brendan's lips were covering his.

It wasn't like last nights kiss. That had been accidental and frantic; this was slower, softer. Brendan seemed to be taking his sweet time, curling his fingers around the back of Ste's neck and drawing him closer. Ste could feel his tongue against the roof of his mouth, gently caressing and exploring. His lips were firm and warm like he remembered but the tickle of his beard was new. Ste reached out to stroke it, expecting it to be rough but like with the moustache, was surprised at its softness.

Eventually they drew apart and it took Ste a few moments to realise that he had his eyes closed still. He opened them to see Brendan smiling fondly at him, his fingertips brushing his cheek.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." Ste croaked. "I need to go though."

Brendan's eyes took on that sad quality again. "Oh." he said very quietly.

"My dad will be wondering where I am otherwise." Ste reluctantly pulled himself away, trying to get a grip on himself. He could still feel the press of Brendan's lips against his own.

"Will ye come back?" Brendan asked. He was trying to regain his own composure but Ste could tell how difficult it was for him. His hand was half-reached out, perhaps without his knowledge, and he was leaning forwards eagerly.

"Of course I will." Ste smiled tightly. He needed to get out of here before he threw himself at the older man. It wouldn't do either of them any good and he needed time to think properly. "I'll come by later." he promised.

Brendan nodded, standing up to see him to the door. "Steven," he said softly. "Thank ye."

"What for?" Ste felt himself begin to lean into Brendan's space.

"Finding me." Brendan said, gaze smouldering and intense.

Ste swallowed hard. "You know me, persistent as ever."

Brendan smiled a little then, stepping back to allow Ste the chance to walk away.

Ste smiled once more and stepped away from the door, feeling his muscles tighten involuntarily. He didn't want to leave, not really. But he knew he couldn't simply throw himself back to the place he was at three and a half years ago. What if he lost him again? He'd already lost so much.

Xxx

"Steven?" Sam appeared in his doorway, holding a plastic bag. "Mind if I come in?"

"Sure." Steven said warily.

This was only the second time he had visited him. He knew he couldn't push his luck, not with someone as clearly fragile as Steven was. He sat on the edge of his bed like last time, the two of them eyeing each other carefully.

"What's in the bag?" Steven asked shortly.

"Oh, I brought you something to read." Sam said, fishing inside for the magazine in question. "It's one I always get."

"Oh right, thanks." Steven took it from his hands and flicked through a few of the pages, his eyebrows knitting together as he pointed at the words. He was mouthing things to himself and squinting as though the articles were a blur to him.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, not wanting to disturb him but keen to find out everything he possibly could.

"I, uh can't read that well." Steven admitted sheepishly. "What does that say?"

He handed the magazine back to him, eyes open and honest. Sam felt very foolish.

"I'm sorry, Steven. I can read it to you, if you like?"

"What, like a bedtime story? Bit old for that now." His teeth gleamed in a bright grin. It took Sam a few moments to realise he was kidding.

Sam laughed a little, deciding to change the subject. "Have you given any more thought to our conversation the other day?"

Steven frowned a little. "I have. I do have a question though."

"Go on." Sam leaned forwards eagerly.

"Why now?" Steven glanced away as though unsure of himself. "I'm twenty four years old. I haven't been with Terry or my Mum in years. You could have found me earlier."

"Ah." Sam said uncomfortably. "I haven't had the easiest few years, I'm afraid. That's no excuse I know but-"

"What happened?" Steven asked curiously.

"My wife passed away recently." Sam said with great difficulty.

Steven stared at him in clear discomfort. "I'm sorry." He said, almost reaching out but then seemingly thinking better of it. "What killed her?"

Sam liked the way Steven said things, without restraint or embellishments. He said whatever came into his head, regardless of how it might sound.

"Cancer." Sam replied with a sad smile.

"Did you have any other kids?" Steven asked quickly. Clearly he'd been dying to ask earlier but for some reason had held back until now.

"No, I'm afraid not." Sam replied. "My wife couldn't have children."

"Oh." Steven said, looking away.

"Do you have any children?" Sam asked eagerly. He'd love to know if he was a grandfather.

Steven hesitated then. "I… yeah. I have two children."

"Two?" Sam was shocked. Steven was still young. "What are their names?" he asked, barely missing a beat.

"Leah and Lucas. Leah isn't mine but I was with her Mum at the time and kind of made her mine, you know?"

"You adopted her?"

"Oh." Steven looked surprised by the question. "No. We talked about it but we were pretty young at the time, didn't really understand the paperwork."

"I could help you, if you're interested."

"I thought you were a builder thing-y." Steven said, gesturing with his hands.

Sam laughed. "Yes, I've had a few jobs in my life. I was in construction when I was younger until… you know. Then I went to college, then university, got myself a business and law degree."

"Wow." Steven sounded impressed. "I own a-" he cut himself off, tears suddenly springing to his eyes.

"What is it, Steven?" Sam asked, concerned.

"My deli's gone." He said, voice dull.

"The fire you were in?"

Steven nodded sadly. "It was all I had left."

"What do you mean?" Sam leaned forward until he was much closer. He could see the tears catching on Steven's long eyelashes.

Steven paused, uncertain. "I had a… partner. He… well, he's gone."

"He?" Sam gave himself a moment to register this. His son was gay. Okay.

"Yeah." Steven said cautiously, as though daring him to have a problem with it. "And my kids are gone, back with their mother. I hardly get to see them anymore."

"You are having a bad time of it." Sam said sympathetically. "How can I help?"

Steven blinked, surprised. "You are helping actually, by listening."

Sam smiled, reaching forwards to take Steven's hand without hesitation, feeling more confident than their first meeting.

"You talk away, son. I want to hear everything."


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Brendan closed his eyes and attempted to block out the sounds around him. It was midday, almost time for lunch. He had been inside for several months now and it wasn't getting any easier. He had a meeting with his solicitor later but he wasn't optimistic. He heard someone enter his cell and didn't need to open his eyes to realise who it was.

"Foxy." He said lightly, cracking open one eye. He couldn't leave himself vulnerable to Warren Fox.

Warren strode into his cell like he owned the place, taking a seat on the stiff seat next to Brendan's sink. He leaned forwards, curling his fingers together. He stared at Brendan, not saying a word.

"What?" Brendan asked eventually, feeling the muscle twitch in his jaw.

"I have a present for you, mate."

Brendan sat up slowly. "Is that right?"

Warren grinned wickedly. "New prisoner in today."

"And?" Brendan said, disinterested.

"Goes by the name of Hay."

Brendan froze, his insides turning to ice. "What?" He asked harshly.

"See for yourself." Warren said, eyes twinkling.

Brendan stared at him warily, wondering if it was a trick. He leaned forwards threateningly.

"If ye are lying to me…"

Warren held his hands up, smile on his face. "He's in the dining room."

Brendan swung his legs off of the bed and walked stiffly to the door, not wanting to give Warren the satisfaction of seeing him hurry. Once he was out of sight however he sped up, heart pumping madly in his chest.

Steven _here_? What was going on? What had he done? Brendan began to sweat, palms itchy and tingling. He shouldn't even go to him, after what he had promised himself about a fresh start for Steven. Somehow he found himself drawn to the dining room regardless; instinct carrying him each step of the way.

He scanned the room quickly, bypassing some of the other smaller men, ones he had observed before with a bored disinterest. None were Steven. Brendan's shoulders began to slump, agony tearing at him anew.

"Found him yet?" Warren asked from beside him. He must have followed him.

"No." Brendan said coldly. "Steven's not here."

"Steven?" Warren barked a laugh. "Sorry, mate. I didn't mean him. There are other Hay's you know."

"What?" Brendan turned on him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

"Woah, relax! There's someone even better that I know you'll want to get your hands on." Warren nodded behind him and Brendan released him to look. He was gesturing towards a man. He was unremarkable and surly, light haired, lean and gritting his teeth as he glanced around the dining room.

"This some kind of joke?" Brendan hissed.

"You never heard of Terry Hay?" Warren asked, close to his ear.

Brendan deflated, remembering Steven's words about his step dad.

"That man over there beat poor Ste to a pulp." Warren whispered, far too close to his back.

"What would ye know about it?" Brendan retorted, hands balling into fists.

"I was in that village long before you, Brady. I make it my business to learn these things."

"Why have ye shown me this?" Brendan asked, gesturing to the man across the room.

"I thought you'd be pleased." Warren replied, mock gracious. "After all, you two have a lot in common."

Brendan gritted his teeth, not rising to the bait. "Why are ye really doing this?"

Warren laughed. "Still not learnt how to trust anyone, hm?"

"I have my moments." Brendan said slowly.

Warren rolled his eyes, still smiling. "No agenda, promise. Just doing it for a mate."

"We aren't mates." Brendan growled, eyes narrowing.

"Alright." Warren said mildly, stepping round to face him. "But ask yourself this: wouldn't you like to get even with the bloke who knocked your Steven about? I know I would, if it were me."

Brendan jerked, eyes blazing. "Says the man who killed his fiancée and tried to murder Anne."

"You aren't exactly a boy scout yourself, otherwise why would you be in here?" Warren shot back, riled now.

Brendan said nothing, pressing his lips firmly together.

"Fine, do what you like. Don't blame me when he gets out in however many months and you're regretting your decision."

Brendan watched him saunter away, glancing up at the clock in the process. No time to dwell on Terry Hay for now; it was time to meet with his solicitor.

Xxx

Brendan barely left the flat that day. He was hesitant to go out in case Steven came by and he wasn't here. He wanted to show Steven how reliable he could be after years of silence. At a knock on the door Brendan sprung to his feet, smoothing his hair down and breathing into his palm to check his breath. He laughed at himself, wondering why he was behaving like a boy with a crush. Already he could feel the blood pumping through him however; heart rate increased and body beginning to sweat. Steven still had that effect on him, even after all this time.

It wasn't Steven at the door though, it was Mitzeee.

"Brendan!" She pushed her way inside, Phoenix firmly in her arms. "Why didn't you call me?"

"What are ye on about?" Brendan grunted, squashing his disappoint down. Steven said he would be back, he'd promised.

"You and Ste!" She said, exasperated. She made herself and Phoenix comfortable on his sofa. "What happened then?"

Brendan sat down next to her, flinching momentarily when Phoenix climbed onto his knee. He blinked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. Sometimes it astounded and sickened Brendan in equal measure how easily a child could trust, could believe they would always be looked after and protected. Brendan wished someone had been there to protect him.

"You alright?" Mitzeee asked softly, evidently sensing the direction of his thoughts.

"Course." Brendan grunted, ruffling Phoenix's hair. No one would hurt this child, Brendan would make sure of it.

"So Ste?" Mitzeee prompted, smiling kindly.

Brendan sighed, staring into the middle distance. "We… talked. Showered, slept, ye know…"

"You slept with him?" Mitzeee hissed, voice low enough that Phoenix wouldn't pick up on her words.

"Course not!" Brendan replied, affronted. "We just… slept."

Mitzeee sighed in relief.

"Would that really be so terrible though?" Brendan asked, somewhat insulted.

"Of course it would! You're both not ready for that. Especially Ste, he's so vulnerable."

"Yeah." Brendan said, frowning and remembering an earlier concern that had been bothering him. "He's not the same."

"It has been over three years, Bren!"

"No I mean he seems so… scared." Brendan said the last word very quietly. "Is that what I did? When I left him?"

Mitzeee looked apologetic. "He took it hard, before I got here…" she trailed off, troubled.

"He told me about the fire." Brendan told her. "I can't believe he was put in that kind of danger and no one told me."

"In my defence I didn't find out until I got back." Mitzeee interjected. "I'm not even sure Cheryl knew, or knows now."

Brendan felt a pang at the mention of his sister's name. He hadn't spoken to her in so long; he wondered how she was doing, if Nate was treating her right.

"Anyway, all I'm saying is take it slow. Get to know each other again, show Ste you've changed, that you'll stick around this time. You will, won't you?" Mitzeee narrowed her eyes at him. That was more like the old Mitzeee Brendan remembered.

"What do ye take me for?"

"You." Mitzeee said with a shrewd smile.

"I ain't leaving him again, ever." Brendan felt cold all over at the very thought. "He changed everything, Anne. I can't lose him this time."

"That's what I like to hear." Mitzeee smirked at him. "Bit of that Brady fighting spirit. I get to plan the wedding though."

Brendan rolled his eyes, laughing. "Sure."

"Brendan," Mitzeee asked quietly, glancing at Phoenix who had long toddled away from them to play with one of Brendan's shirts. "Did you see Warren inside?"

Brendan gritted his teeth. "I did."

"How… was he?" Mitzeee asked hesitantly.

"Same old Foxy." Brendan sighed. "Obnoxious, fat-"

"Hey!" Mitzeee glared at him. "He was just… muscled."

"Don't defend him." Brendan said, horrified. "Man's a c-"

"_Brendan!_" Mitzeee scolded, glancing quickly at Phoenix. He grinned up at them, now wearing Brendan's shirt. It was far too big for him of course, trailing across the floor.

"Sorry." Brendan murmured, hiding a smile.

"You need a shave by the way." Mitzeee said, smiling in spite of herself.

"Ye reckon?" Brendan smoothed his hand over his mouth.

"All part of the comeback, right?"

"What are ye saying?"

"Well, you'll reveal yourself now, won't you? To the village?"

Brendan visibly baulked. "Are ye kidding?"

Mitzeee appeared confused. "What did you think would happen? You'd hide away with only me and Ste for company?"

Brendan stared at her as though she was mad. "And that doesn't sound reasonable to ye?"

Mitzeee frowned at him. "You can't just hide away. People need to know you're out and proud, no pun intended." She winked, lips curving into a secretive smile.

"Not yet." Brendan murmured. "I've just found Steven again, I want some alone time first."

"Without Sam finding out?" Mitzeee asked incredulously.

"Steven's a grown man-"

"Yeah but Sam's very…" Mitzeee searched for the right word. "Overprotective."

"And?"

"And he'll wonder what Ste's up to, where he's spending his nights. I can't keep covering for you."

"Anne, I'm only asking for days here. I just want to talk to him properly, we didn't really get the chance before."

Mitzeee sighed, fixing Brendan with a stern look. "When are you seeing him again? Although judging by how disappointed you were to see me, I'd say he said he'd be back today?"

Brendan nodded, feeling intensely vulnerable all of a sudden. "He said he would."

"Then he will." Mitzeee said firmly, grasping his hand suddenly. "When has Ste ever let you down?"

Xxx

Brendan sat opposite Jim McGinn, the solicitor who had achieved the impossible; getting criminals the likes of Mercedes McQueen off the hook and known murderers like Paul Browning. Brendan glared at him across the table, arms folded.

"Mr Brady, Brendan." Jim began, seemingly apologetic.

"Ye wanna explain to me what ye are doing here?"

Jim shuffled some papers on the desk. "I have news, good news." He said, sweating a little.

Brendan raised his eyebrows but that was the only indication he gave that he was listening.

"Your sentence, seven years."

"I haven't forgotten." Brendan said darkly. Admittedly he had expected a much longer sentence but seven years was still a lifetime. Paddy would be well into his teens by then, Declan practically a man.

"What if I told you there's a possibility of a reduced sentence?"

Brendan stared at him blankly. "How?" He finally managed to ask.

"I've been reviewing your case and I don't mean to brag but it was a miracle in itself the sentence you did get-"

"Cut to the chase."

"Right well, as long as you remain on your best behaviour." Jim hesitated, re-thinking. "Well, not _your _best behaviour; what the court deems worthy, you understand. I could envisage you being out in say… four years? Maybe less?"

Brendan sank further into his seat. "That soon?" He swallowed hard. Three to four years was immeasurably more bearable. He had the potential to start over if he was out that soon. Maybe even Steven-

"You understand what I mean, don't you? I'm talking rehabilitation classes, counselling, no fighting."

Brendan's mind froze on that word. Fighting. He dimly remembered Terry Hay and the numerous things he had planned for him. He hadn't told Warren this of course; he couldn't trust the man. He hesitated, wondering if it was really worth his longer sentence to get even with the man.

Jim must have sensed his hesitation because he spoke up worriedly. "I mean it, Brendan. No incidents. You keep your head down and do whatever they ask of you."

Brendan grunted at that. Jim had no idea what it was like in here. He didn't see the corruption of the guards, the daily violence and threats. Brendan only just held himself together through intimidation and fear; a sentence of manslaughter gave him a certain leverage, made some prisoners believe he was capable of anything, especially considering the recipient of such an act.

"Don't you want to get back to your sister? To Ste?" Jim pressed.

Brendan stared at him in surprise. "Ye have seen him? Steven?" There was a note of anxiety in his voice that Jim picked up on.

"I might have. You could see him you know, he keeps bothering me about visiting orders."

Brendan looked away, resolute. "Not gonna happen."

"But if you could be out in just a few years…"

"Nothing is set in stone." Brendan said coldly.

"Please consider it, Brendan. Carefully." Jim stood up, shuffling his papers back into his briefcase. "I'll be in touch."

Brendan didn't look up, so consumed by his own thoughts he was. The guards led him back to his cell but he didn't stay there. He went out to the yard, spotted Terry easily giving one of the other prisoners lip; some scrawny lad, half his size. Brendan stalked over towards them, perfect poker face on.

"Alright?" He asked, directing his question to the lad.

He nodded sheepishly. He was young, only around eighteen. Brendan jerked his head for him to scuttle away which he did so gratefully.

"Do you mind?" Terry snapped.

"Not particularly." Brendan said mildly, leaning against the fence. "New are ye?"

"Yeah." Terry said, already suspicious. "Who are you?"

"Well, I'm Brendan Brady." Brendan told him. "And I believe ye are Terrence."

"Terry." He corrected, wary now. "How do you know my name?"

"I happen to know yer son." Brendan said, pausing for effect. "_Intimately.__"_

Terry visibly recoiled from him. "Excuse me?"

"Ye heard me."

"My Ste ain't no queer."

"Yer Ste is it?" Brendan launched himself away from the fence, getting up close in Terry's face. "The same Ste ye battered?"

"How is that your business?" Terry bit back, undeterred.

"I make it my business, Terrence." Brendan said, voice low. "Steven is my responsibility."

Terry laughed in his face then. "Don't get soppy with me, it's disgusting."

"Is it now? Haven't heard that one before."

"It's wrong, sick. You're _wrong._"

Brendan barely flinched. "And ye are a dead man walking." Brendan growled, temper rising.

"You can't threaten me."

"No, I can't." Brendan said, more nonchalant now. "I want to get out of here as soon as possible so I won't be laying a finger on ye. But I have men in here who would do anything for some cash, and as it happens I recently came into some money." Brendan's eyes sparkled with rage and unrestrained glee. "So I'd think carefully of yer next words."

Terry spat on the ground, narrowly missing Brendan's shoes. "Filthy queer." He sneered. "Not with Ste now though are you? Why's that? I can't say I'm surprised that he turned out that way. The noises he used to make when I whacked him one, the whimpers! Tragic really, disgusting. I bet you know all about that though, don't you? Big fella like you. I bet Ste got on your nerves too, he has a habit of doing that. He has a face just asking to be smacked-"

Brendan brought his fist inches away from Terry's face, hitting the fence with an almighty clang. Several prisoners glanced their way.

"Congratulations on being one of the world's biggest cunts. Ye will be hearing from me, not directly, but watch yerself." Brendan spoke very quietly, barely controlling his rage. He moved away from Terry before he did something he'd later regret. He had to get out of this place, that was for certain. Terry was right about one thing; he wasn't with Steven, and that had to change.

Xxx

It was growing late and Brendan was becoming restless. He stared out of the window every few minutes, willing Steven to appear in the shadows. He didn't like the idea of him being out so late on his own. Brendan was tempted to go and find him. What if he'd gotten into some kind of trouble?

He sighed heavily, foot tapping impatiently on the floor. He contemplated having a whiskey to calm his nerves but he didn't think Steven would appreciate him smelling of alcohol for their next encounter. He checked the window again, groaning inwardly when all he saw was that ridiculous hedge outside Steven's flat and nothing more.

A knock at the door had Brendan freezing in place. He must have missed him while he was away from the window. Coughing awkwardly, Brendan smoothed his clothes down to make himself more presentable before going towards the door, hoping that Mitzeee had the good grace to not fool him twice.

When he opened the door however it wasn't Mitzeee. It wasn't Steven either.

"Hello, Brendan." Samuel said pleasantly. "I think it's time me and you had a little chat."


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Ste left Brendan's flat slowly, shaking a little as he went down the steps. He had just managed to compose himself before entering his own flat when Sam opened the door to him.

"Dad!" Ste said in surprise, heart hammering in his chest.

"Steven." Sam smiled at him. "I was worried about you, are you alright?" He enveloped him in an embrace.

"Course. I was just at Mitzeee's weren't I?" Ste said, glad that Sam couldn't see his face.

Sam pulled away, holding him at arm's length and surveying him carefully. "How's your head?"

"Much better." Ste said, pleased he didn't have to lie this time.

"That's good." Sam said, nodding. He was frowning though.

"What is it?" Ste asked warily.

"You seem… different." Sam answered wonderingly.

"Same old Ste, me!" Ste responded, a little too cheerful. "I'll just get a shower and walk you to the club." He did this most days; it was nice to spend a little time together before Sam went to work.

"Aren't you working today as well?" Sam asked.

Ste stopped in his tracks. He'd almost forgotten about working at the club. "Oh yeah! Course. Even more reason for a shower." He grinned and Sam smiled back, appeased for now.

They walked to the club in near silence. Ste was feeling decidedly twitchy, pulling his black hoodie closer around him. He had so much history with the club; it felt weird going back there to work. Yesterday had been bad enough. Had it really only been a day? So much had changed already.

"You okay, son?" Sam asked, worried edge to his voice.

"Yeah, just second day nerves." Ste said, smiling sheepishly.

"You don't need to be nervous, I'm here." Sam said, laying a protective hand on Ste's shoulder.

"I know." Ste said softly, feeling the warmth of Sam's affection flow through him. It was different to how Brendan made him feel, naturally. Brendan put him on edge, frayed and worked up, energy pulsing through him when they were together. But his presence was also comforting, warm and familiar. Ste loved his dad, he really did, but he didn't know him that well still, even after the few years they'd spent together. He knew everything about Brendan, darkness and all. It was oddly comforting, to know what to expect from an unpredictable person. Ste didn't know what he would say to him tonight but he found himself buzzing at the thought of seeing him again.

"We're here." Sam said, shaking him from his thoughts. He stared at him curiously but his smile was still friendly. "No cash and carry today."

Ste laughed, anything but at ease.

"You can stock the cellar if you like." Sam said, opening the door. "But don't lift anything too heavy."

"Got it." Ste nodded, going straight down there once they got inside.

"Oh and Steven?" Sam called after him.

"Yeah?" Ste turned back, wary.

"There's some kind of stain down there, maybe take the mop and bucket?"

Ste flushed red, knowing _exactly _what that stain was. "Sure thing, dad." He said cheerily, disappearing down the steps.

"_Bren?__"__ Ste called down the steps. It was late and Brendan was meant to be walking him home. _

"_Down here, Steven.__"__ Brendan replied, closer than Ste realised. _

"_What you doing down here?__"__ Ste asked, closing the door behind him. _

"_What do ye think?__"__ Brendan grabbed a crate and moved it next to several others. _

"_Well you__'__re supposed to be meeting me, you idiot.__"_

"_Shit.__"__ Brendan looked at him apologetically. __"__Well, ye are here now.__"_

"_I am.__"__ Ste said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Brendan gave him a suspicious look, rightfully suspecting that Ste was up to something. _

"_What?__"__ He asked, wary. _

"_What?__"__ Ste repeated, unable to disguise the click in the door as he turned the key. _

"_Did ye just lock the door?__"__ Brendan asked incredulously, beginning to smile. _

"_I might have.__"__ Ste said, sauntering towards him. __"__What of it?__"_

"_Ye are naughty, Mr Hay.__"_

_Ste shrugged, placing his hands on Brendan__'__s waist. __"__And you__'__re not going anywhere.__"_

_Brendan raised his eyebrows, amused and clearly aroused. _

"_Is that so?__"_

"_Mmm.__"__ Ste leaned up on his tiptoes to kiss Brendan hungrily, arms clinging around his neck. _

_Brendan smiled into the kiss, pushing his body against Ste__'__s. They found themselves against the same place they had first truly found each other. Ste pulled away to stare up at him, eyelashes fluttering desirably. _

"_Look at this, I__'__ve got you now.__"_

_It was true; Brendan was the one with his back against the wall, Ste invading his personal space. His leg was between Brendan__'__s, close enough to graze his thigh. His breath was warm on Brendan__'__s face, stroking a line down his jaw. _

"_Don__'__t think I__'__m always gonna let ye take charge.__"__ Brendan murmured, eyes dark with desire. _

"_Just once is enough.__"__ Ste kissed him, curling his fingers into Brendan__'__s dark hair and tugging hard. _

_They became animalistic in their movements. Their positions shifted after a while and Ste grinned into Brendan__'__s mouth. _

"_That lasted long.__"__ He muttered, tugging on Brendan__'__s bottom lip. _

"_That__'__s me, Steven.__"__ Brendan growled, hoisting Steven further up the wall and pulling his trousers down. __"__I wanted to do this the first time we were down here.__"_

"_The first time, eh?__"__ Ste raised his eyebrows, helping Brendan shimmy his trousers off. __"__Even before we kissed?__"_

"_Shut up.__"__ Brendan growled, kissing him fiercely. _

_Ste laughed into his mouth. __"__You wanted me from day one, admit it.__"_

"_I wanted to teach ye a lesson, giving me cheek like that. Wish I__'__d kissed ye instead though.__"_

_Ste__'__s eyes softened. __"__In the past now.__"__ He ran his hand along the back of Brendan__'__s neck. __"__You gonna fuck me or not?__"_

_Brendan laughed throatily, sticking three of his fingers into Ste__'__s willing mouth. He coated them with spit, making the most obscene noises in the process. He could feel Brendan__'__s hardness against him, anticipation coiling through him at the thought of it inside him. _

_Brendan nuzzled against his neck as he entered one hot, slick finger inside. Ste__'__s muscles swallowed it instinctively, tightening and contracting. Brendan pushed in and out to the sounds of Ste__'__s moans. _

"_Louder, Steven. No one can hear ye scream down here.__"_

_Ste shivered, not from fear but arousal. He threw his head back as Brendan inserted another finger. He was a mess already, as usual. By the third he was making soft, keening noises, begging Brendan to remove his fingers and replace them with his cock. _

"_But it__'__s so fun watching ye squirm.__"__ Brendan whispered against his ear, stroking delectably against Ste__'__s now stretched out hole. _

"_Come on, Bren. Please.__"__ Ste bucked against him, almost unbalancing him. _

_Brendan laughed, the pressure leaving Ste__'__s hole. __"__I like it when ye beg.__"_

_Ste closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of Brendan slicking his cock up and pumping it before pushing it gently against his entrance. _

"_Look at me.__"__ Brendan said softly. _

_Ste felt compelled to obey. There was something desperate in Brendan__'__s voice now. _

_Brendan stared at him levelly. __"__I love ye.__"__ He breathed and pushed all the way inside, finding his target with ease. _

"Steven!" Sam bellowed down the stairs. "What are you up to down there?"

Ste was in a hot sweat, leaning against the wall for support. He stared down at the stain on the floor, remembering how at the moment of climax he'd kicked out and knocked a few crates over, the liquid pooling and staining the floor. It had been red wine and Ste remembered thinking that it looked almost like blood, and how Brendan had flinched for some reason. That was before Ste had known about Seamus.

"Steven?"

"I'm fine!" Ste called back.

"Alright, I have to close up early tonight by the way."

"Okay!" Ste called back. He shook his head to clear it, cheeks still flushed red with the memory.

Xxx

Sam was worried about Steven. He was jumpy and distracted. He dropped three glasses throughout his shift. Sam almost sent him home but decided it would be better to keep an eye on him. It was only when Mitzeee came up the stairs that he relaxed. Something about her made Sam feel calm. She gave him a bright smile before turning to Ste.

"You okay, love?" She asked, touching his arm gently. "How's your head?"

Before Steven could answer Sam jumped in. "You only saw him a few hours ago!" He said, laughing.

"Oh yes, of course." Mitzeee said quickly, colour rising in her face.

"Where's our Phoenix?" Steven asked eagerly, looking past Mitzeee.

"Nancy's got him. He's having a play date with little Oscar."

"Bit young for that, aren't they?" Steven quipped.

"Ste!" Mitzeee hit him on the arm. "You know perfectly well what I meant."

Steven grinned cheekily. It was the most relaxed Sam had seen him all day.

"I have to pick him up soon actually but I thought I'd drop by first." Mitzeee glanced at Sam carefully. She was smiling but her mouth was twitching a little as though she had something private she wanted to share with Steven.

"I'm just going to…" Sam trailed off, pointing away. He didn't have anywhere he particularly needed to be but Steven and Mitzeee looked like they needed a conversation.

Once he was round the corner he stopped, listening.

"Ste, what happened?" Mitzeee asked eagerly.

"Not here, Mitz. We'll talk later." Steven said so quietly that Sam almost couldn't hear him.

"Yeah but you have to give me something! What did he do when you found him?"

Sam peered around the corner then, intrigued. "We kissed." He blushed. "And he held me like he used to."

"Oh, love." Mitzeee grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. "You're seeing him later?"

"Yeah, course. We have so much more to say to each other." Steven said softly.

"You have to tell me all about it." Mitzeee winked.

"Dirty mare!" Steven laughed, teeth flashing.

"Sex on the brain already, calm yourself." Mitzeee laughed, jumping off her stool. "I have to go pick Phoenix up. Maybe I'll stop by Brendan's."

"Yeah?" Steven looked eager, too eager. "Don't tell him I told you anything, there's still a lot to talk about."

Mitzeee pressed her lips together firmly. "Not a word. When do you finish up here?"

"Not until later." Steven said, a little disgruntled.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Mitzeee said knowingly.

"Yeah, I think we've had enough absence thanks!" Steven smiled but his eyes were sad.

Once Mitzeee had left, Sam leaned heavily against the wall, thinking hard. He had heard a great deal about Brendan Brady, from villagers, from newspapers. He'd never told Steven this of course. After he had first found out that his son was gay he had accepted it immediately. Steven told him all about Doug and the marriage and how things hadn't worked out. He'd mentioned Brendan in passing but never by name; it seemed almost painful for him to talk about so Sam never pushed it. The trouble with living in such a small village however meant that gossip was rife and the people around here had plenty to say about Brendan Brady, most of it decidedly not good.

Sam was naturally cautious, as any father would be. He'd had no idea that Brendan was out of prison and seemingly Steven hadn't either. He remembered the man who had helped Steven at the scene of his accident and recognition struck him. He remembered seeing that face in pictures surrounding Mitzeee's flat. So that had been the famous Brendan Brady, huh? Sam had to find out more. He needed to speak to the man before Steven did but that wouldn't be easy.

Sam didn't decide on what to do until much later. The club closed just past midnight that night, much earlier than normal. He and Steven were the only ones left once the place had been cleaned up. Sam went down to the cellar, collecting what he needed before he met Steven again at the bar. Steven was putting his coat on, missing the hole for his arm several times. He appeared to be shaking. Sam frowned in concern, helping him get into his coat.

"If there was anything wrong, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?" He asked.

"Of course, dad." Steven smiled at him. He was still so young, so vulnerable. It steeled Sam's determination to do the right thing.

"Before you go can you just fetch me another crate of cider from the cellar? Saves me doing it in the morning."

"Okay." Steven said slowly, amused by the strange request.

Sam followed him to the top of the stairs. "Be careful of the door, it tends to get stuck now."

"Okay!" Steven called back.

Once Sam was satisfied that he was out of sight, he went down and gave the door a gentle nudge, closing it so it wouldn't make too much of a sound. He hastily pulled the keys out of his pocket and locked the door, hands shaking as he did so.

"Dad?" Steven called. "This crate is too heavy for me with my back, can you help?"

Sam closed his eyes, keeping his mouth firmly shut.

"Dad?" He heard Steven's footsteps approach the door. He tried the handle but it was stuck. "Dad? The door's shut on me! I can't open it!" He tried with much more ferocity than Sam knew he possessed, even threw himself against it a few times. "DAD!" He screamed, scared now.

Sam bit his knuckles, hands itching to unlock the door. He couldn't though, it was for the best. He tore himself away, making his way to Brendan's.

Xxx

"Samuel. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Brendan was gracious but Sam could sense the tension in him.

"You know who I am then?" Sam replied, stepping inside.

"I could say the same to ye." Brendan said, closing the door after him.

"You're Irish." Sam said, momentarily surprised.

"I am." Brendan said. His voice was deep with a slight lilt to it. He wasn't what Sam had expected. He was a lot more…civilised than he'd anticipated. "I'm guessing this isn't a social call?" Brendan asked, straight to the point. "Where's Steven?" His face took on a new expression then, softer, calmer. The transformation fascinated Sam.

"He's at the club."

"Is he alright?" Brendan asked suspiciously.

"Do you mean to ask why he isn't here?" Sam asked pleasantly, taking a seat. "He'll be by later no doubt."

"And ye thought ye would get here first?" Brendan asked, remaining standing.

"I have some questions I'd like to ask you." Sam said mildly, bringing his hands together. "Please sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do in my own place." Brendan retorted. Ah, that was more like the Brendan he had heard about.

"Apologies." Sam spread his palms flat. "I meant no offence. I'd just like our conversation to be as comfortable as possible."

"I feel more comfortable standing." Brendan said, calm again but still with the edge to his voice.

"Fair enough." Sam said, considering his next words carefully. "What do you want with my son?"

"What do ye want with my Steven?" Brendan countered. He wasn't playing the game, that was for sure.

Sam laughed dryly. "You're quite the character."

"I'm sure ye have heard all about me."

"You think so?" Sam said in some surprise.

"I don't doubt what the people around here say about me."

"You think I've actively sought out information about you?"

Brendan shrugged, moving around the room now. "Possibly. It's not as though Steven's told ye anything."

"He said that?"

"He did."

"You've seen him then."

"Ye already knew that."

Sam laughed again. "You're a clever man, Brendan."

"So is Steven." Brendan said. "I hope ye realise that."

"Of course I do, he's my son."

"He told me where ye have been all this time."

Sam nodded, unsurprised. "So you've been snooping into me as well then?"

"Can't help it if the boy wants to talk about ye." Brendan said carefully.

"I'm sure you asked though." Sam said, raising his eyebrows pointedly. "Warned him off me?"

"I'm naturally suspicious." Brendan said coldly. "Especially when it comes to fathers."

"Is that right?" Sam asked, intrigued even more now.

"I met Steven's step dad inside."

Sam froze then, his calm demeanour shattered. "You saw Terry?"

Brendan's expression changed at his reaction. "Yeah, piece of shit. I took care of him, don't ye worry."

"He's dead?" Sam asked grimly.

"No!" Brendan said, clearly affronted. "What do ye take me for?"

Sam gave him a look. Brendan stared back at him, then he smiled.

"Fair enough. But no, I just… gave him a scare is all. Not personally of course."

"It's no more than I would have done." Sam said calmly.

"Yeah?" For the first time Brendan didn't look antagonistic towards him.

"He kept my boy away from me for years, I don't care what happens to him."

"Hmm." Brendan said thoughtfully.

They were silent for several moments.

"I'm not sure I feel comfortable having this conversation without Steven knowing." Brendan eventually said, wary now.

"Really?" Sam stood up then to even the playing field. "You think it would upset him?"

"I know it would, and I won't do that again."

"Again, of course."

Brendan narrowed his eyes at him. "If ye have something to say, I'd rather ye dropped the nice guy routine and just said it."

Sam stared at him, expression fixed. "As you wish." He took a breath and stepped closer. "I love my son very much. Always have done, ever since the first time I saw him. Oh yes, I saw him once. Pauline allowed me to hold him a few days after he was born, only for a few minutes before Terry came back." Sam sighed sadly. "Happiest moment of my life, that was."

"He has that effect on people." Brendan said quietly.

"I don't know you, Brendan." Sam continued, a little taken aback by the softness of Brendan's words. "You could be everything Steven needs for all I know, but I don't. What I do know is my son is extremely vulnerable right now, and that's partly thanks to you." He looked at him levelly then. "I can't stop you seeing him, I see that, even more so now I've actually met you. But I will be keeping a close eye on you, both of you."

"The feeling is entirely mutual." Brendan said, eyes not leaving his face.

"Then we have an understanding?" Sam said, holding out his hand.

Brendan hesitated before taking the offered hand. The grip was tight and they let go almost immediately.

Sam turned towards the door but before he could leave Brendan spoke up again.

"Just so ye know, I love yer son too and I'm not going anywhere."

"Noted." Sam said with a stiff nod. And with that, he went through the door without so much as a glance behind him.

Xxx

"Dad!" Ste pounded on the door, growing frightened now. He hated being stuck in here; here of all places with it's memories in every corner. His knuckles were hurting from where he'd been pounding on the door for a good fifteen minutes. When he heard footsteps on the stairs he pounded even louder. "Hello?" He shouted. "Who's there?"

"Ste?" Mitzeee pushed open the door, astounded when Ste flung himself into her arms.

"Thank god you're here." He breathed, burying his face into her long hair.

"I came in to check on the place, someone left the front door open." Mitzeee pulled back to look at him, touching his face gently. "What happened? How did you get stuck in here?"

"The door must have slammed shut, it's been doing that."

"Has it?"

"That's what dad said. He was here, something must have came up. He couldn't have known I was down here still."

"Of course." Mitzeee said uncertainly. "Come on, let's get you home." She said anxiously.

"I need to go to Brendan's still." Ste said, allowing Mitzeee to steer him up the stairs.

"Oh of course, I'll take you there then."

"Mitz you don't have to-"

"Phoenix is with Maxine, it's fine." Mitzeee said airily.

"I don't want you walking home alone though."

"I'm sure Brendan will walk me back." Mitzeee said dismissively. "I need to speak to him anyway."

"You do?" Ste asked, curious now. "About what?"

"Doesn't matter." Mitzeee said, waving her hand dismissively. "Come on, cuddle close. It's a cold night."

Ste did as he was told, finding comfort in the softness and warmth of Mitzeee's body.

"What were you doing out so late anyway?" Ste asked curiously.

"I couldn't sleep." Mitzeee answered, high heels clicking on the ground. "Thought I'd take a walk to clear my head."

"You been having the nightmares again?" Ste asked quietly, holding her closer.

"Yeah." Mitzeee said sadly. "Have you?"

"Not last night, first time in ages." Ste smiled wistfully. "I need to see him, Mitz. I need to know what this all means."

"Well how do you feel?"

Ste felt the wind hitting his face as he stared ahead. "I don't know. He still makes me feel like he always did. I promised him I'd never feel any differently about him and I don't. Even after all this time."

"Always." Mitzeee said softly, smiling a little.

"What?"

"Harry Potter reference, Phoenix is a fan."

"Oh." Ste frowned. "I haven't read that one."

Mitzeee's face took on a new expression. "You can read it with us, we haven't got far."

"Thanks, Mitz." Ste said, kissing her on the cheek.

"What was that for?"

"Just for being a mate, it means a lot."

"Oh, Ste you soft old thing."

"Old? You're my age you know."

"Well I age better of course." Mitzeee said, smiling and flicking her hair.

"Yeah you wish. You're lucky you still have that nice arse of yours."

"Ste!" Mitzeee chastised.

They laughed and joked all the way up to the block of flats. Ste quietened when they arrived.

"You ready?"

Ste nodded, holding out his hand. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too." Mitzeee smiled, taking his hand tightly. "Let's go see the wizard."

"Huh?"

Mitzeee shook her head, laughing. "I'll tell you later."


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

They knocked on Brendan's door, astonished when he opened it within seconds. He seemed relieved to see them, which made Ste wonder who else had visited him today.

"Steven." Brendan said wonderingly, as though he hadn't thought to see him ever again.

"Bren." Ste greeted, feeling shy.

Mitzeee cleared her throat, making no move to enter the flat. "I'm sorry I tagged along, Brendan. I wondered if I could have a quick word?"

Brendan blinked as though he had only just noticed her. "Of course. I'll walk ye home. Will ye be alright here for a bit, Steven?"

"Yeah." Ste walked into the flat, turning to face them. "I'll watch telly for a bit."

"There's ah, snacks in the cupboard. Biscuits, jam… ye know."

"I'll make you a sandwich." Ste grinned, feeling oddly nostalgic all of a sudden.

"Oh ye don't have to-"

"I want to." Ste said firmly. "Go on now." He shooed them out the door, Mitzeee flashing him a warm smile before she disappeared from sight.

Ste turned immediately towards the kitchen, taking a deep breath. He remembered coming here for that weird dinner party years ago and it seemed strange to him that Brendan lived here now, of all places. Ste located the bread and jam easily enough, making the sandwiches like it was second nature to him. He even cut the crusts off and left them on the side; he remembered how Brendan liked to eat them separately.

Brendan returned ten minutes later, windswept and alert. He looked Ste over in concern before his eyes fixed on the plate of sandwiches.

"Hungry?" Ste asked, handing it over.

"Starving." Brendan said, wolfing them down. "I feel like I haven't been fed properly in years."

"That's because I haven't been around." Ste said, smiling. The smile faltered as he considered his words. "Sorry, I don't mean to make you feel bad."

Brendan shook his head, devouring one of the crusts. "I'm here now." he said simply, staring at Ste carefully.

"What was up with Mitzeee then?" Ste asked, licking some jam from his finger.

Brendan followed the movement, taking a moment longer to reply. "Oh, nothing." he said, glancing away.

Ste frowned. "What?"

"I don't want to lie to ye, just… let me say nothing."

"Brendan," Ste said warningly. "What is it?"

Brendan stroked the back of his neck absently. "Anne was a bit concerned, that's all."

"About what?" Ste asked, stepping closer.

"It's really not important right now, Steven."

Ste stepped even closer, only a few feet away from the older man now. Brendan gulped visibly at his closeness, his eyes darting down to Ste's lips which he suspected had jam on them.

"Tell me." He said seriously, eyes not leaving Brendan's face.

"How did ye get locked in the cellar?" Brendan asked.

Ste blinked. That wasn't what he had expected at all.

"How do you mean?"

"Anne said ye told her the door gets stuck, but she said that's the first she's heard of it."

Ste frowned deeply. "So? Maybe she doesn't go down to the cellar much."

"She does on occasion though." Brendan said carefully.

"What are you trying to say?" Ste asked, edge to his voice.

"Yer dad came to see me." Brendan said, wincing as Ste swore loudly.

"What for? How did he know you were here?"

"I don't know, Steven. He just did."

"That can't be right." Ste's arms lifted and he lowered them automatically.

"Do ye trust me?" Brendan asked quickly, then hesitated. "I know ye have no reason to after everything but-"

"I do." Ste said, softer now. "At least, that's what my gut is telling me."

"I like yer gut." Brendan said, laughing uneasily. It was unusual to see him so nervous; like being around Ste off-footed him somewhat.

"I'll talk to him." Ste declared, nodding to himself. "I'm sure there's an explanation."

"Yeah." Brendan said, but he sounded unsure.

"Can we forget all that for a bit?" Ste asked in a rush. "I think we need to talk, proper like."

"Right, yeah." Brendan agreed, appearing more anxious than before. "Do ye wanna sit down?"

"Okay." Ste said, stepping forwards at the same time as Brendan did. Brendan laughed a little, allowing him to go first.

They sat on the sofa; Brendan opting to sit on the arm rest.

"Who wants to start then?" Ste asked, clasping his hands together in his lap.

"Maybe I should." Brendan said unsteadily.

"Bren, you seem a bit…" Ste flailed a little with his hands.

"What?"

"Not yourself."

"Steven-"

"We really need to talk, so spit it out and we can move on."

"It's not quite that simple-"

"Just get on with it!"

"Why do ye have to be so difficult?" Brendan groaned, rubbing his temple.

"Says you!" Ste flushed, throwing a pillow in his direction.

Brendan caught it easily. "I won't fall for that one again."

"Yeah but you'll steal mine, I can't believe you still do that. And you take all the covers."

"Ye still snort in yer sleep."

"You still roll on top of me."

"Ye still tangle yer legs in mine."

"You still…" Ste faltered, realising that Brendan was now directly in front of him.

"Hey." Brendan said softly. Somehow his hands were against Ste's cheeks.

"Hey." Ste breathed, and kissed him.

It took him a few minutes to control himself. He felt himself half sitting on Brendan's lap before he pulled away, horrified.

"We're meant to be talking!" He said, flustered.

"Ye kissed me!"

"You let me!"

"Steven, this could go on all night." Brendan said finally, chuckling.

"You're right." Ste reluctantly pulled himself from Brendan's arms and sat beside him. "Okay, you go."

Brendan took a deep breath. "I know everything can't go back to the way it was before, ye know, but where's yer head at right now?"

"I don't know to be honest." Ste said, chewing on his bottom lip. "Last night was… amazing." He flushed a little then. "It was like… I dunno…"

"Coming home?" Brendan asked quietly.

"Yeah." Ste agreed softly. "Just like that."

"And there really hasn't been anyone else that ye have…" Brendan balled his hands into fists. "Ye know…"

"Besides _that, _no. There hasn't. Have you…?"

"No." Brendan said shortly.

"Not even?" Ste hesitated. "Actually I don't think I wanna know."

"Steven," Brendan grasped his hands in his own, grip tight. "Ye know there is no one else. Not for me."

"Well, not for me either." Ste said weakly. "But Brendan after everything that happened in those weeks leading up to the arrest…" Ste frowned again. "How do we get past all that?"

"That's up to ye, Steven."

Ste gulped, feeling the warmth of Brendan's hands in his own. "You took all those classes in prison."

"I did." Brendan said uneasily.

"But I know how easy it is to… fall into old habits."

"I don't want to hurt ye, Steven. Ye have to believe that."

"I do." Ste said and he meant it. "It's that leap of faith though, isn't it? Like on that bridge."

Brendan was silent, staring at Ste as though he held all the answers.

"It might take time…" Ste began, not quite believing his own words. "We can take it slow, get to know each other again."

"Whatever ye want, Steven." Brendan said solemnly.

Ste twitched. "It's not what I want though."

Brendan said nothing, his eyes sad. He looked older all of a sudden, like the grief and pain of the past few years had taken its toll.

"I don't mean I don't want to." Ste said quickly. "I mean that I don't want to go slow and wait, I want you _now.__"_

"Now?" Brendan stared at the sofa as though judging it's durability. "I could move these cushions out the way…"

"Brendan!" Ste laughed, tugging on his hands.

"Sorry." Brendan said sheepishly. His lines smoothed out and he smiled and it was the most beautiful thing Ste had ever seen. He kissed him again.

"Maybe just for tonight we can…" Ste looked at him suggestively.

"Jesus." Brendan breathed as Ste's hands roamed down his body.

"Let's go to the bedroom though, yeah? I don't fancy these dodgy floorboards."

Brendan stood up abruptly, pulling Ste with him.

"Someone's keen!" Ste laughed.

"Fuck it." Brendan growled low, pulling Ste into his arms for a fierce kiss.

Ste found himself being half carried towards the bedroom. He was taken off guard momentarily by the unfamiliarity of the room. It didn't yet have Brendan's stamp on it.

"My stuff's in storage." Brendan said, breaking away from their kiss.

"We'll get it all back."

"I don't have lube."

"I don't care."

Brendan growled again low in his throat, pushing Ste onto the bed.

Before he joined him he whipped his shirt off in one fluid motion. Even though Ste had seen him yesterday he still took his breath away. Brendan was _huge_. He wasn't like those wrestlers with all the veins and bulging biceps but his stomach was taut, chest defined and arms built like they could lift Ste above his head.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous." Ste found himself saying, most uncharacteristically. But he supposed Brendan hadn't heard a compliment in a long time and his mouth wasn't engaging with his brain _at all _right now. He feared he would say worse later.

"Steven." Brendan murmured, voice velvet smooth and washing over Ste like a tidal wave.

Ste shimmied himself out of his trousers, slipping his shirt over his head. Brendan stared at him like a starved man, eyes blazing in their intensity.

"This… this is heaven." Brendan muttered to himself, kissing his cross and climbing onto the bed.

"Come here, you idiot." Ste grinned, pulling him forwards with ease. Their lips met all over again; a crushing of mouths and the stroking of tongues. Brendan's hands were all over him; smoothing over his pale skin and the hairs on his legs. He moved his lips to his neck, making sucking sounds until he found his chest, peppering it with soft kisses.

Ste's eyes rolled back, imperceptibly widening his legs. Brendan chuckled into his skin, bypassing his groin to nuzzle and bite his inner thigh. He stroked along his calf, making Ste shiver. It was like Brendan was rediscovering him all over again, re-learning every crevice in his body.

Ste began to get impatient. He wrapped his legs tightly around Brendan's waist, drawing him near.

"Steven." Brendan chuckled, kissing him lightly on the nose.

"Please." Ste begged, hands ghosting over Brendan's bare flesh.

Brendan's smile faded, replaced with a look of the purest desire. "Okay." He mumbled, staring into Ste's eyes, expression unguarded.

He worked his way down Ste's body, lips and tongue leaving a trail from chest to balls; the latter he palmed in his hand while his tongue licked carefully around his hole. It wasn't long before his tongue worked its way inside, causing Ste to buck half off the bed with the suddenness of the feeling.

"Do I have to hold ye?" Brendan paused, tilting his head up to smirk at him.

"No." Ste breathed, head thrown back against the pillow. "Just… get on with it." He grimaced, already feeling the coil of tension work its way to the surface of his consciousness.

Brendan did as he was told; lapping at Ste's entry with all the vigor and finesse Ste remembered. Ste reached for his hands, trapping them in his own. Their fingers interlocked tightly; Ste giving the barest of squeezes when he wanted Brendan to increase his movements. It was remarkable the way they remembered these cues, as though they had never been apart at all.

Brendan replaced his tongue with a finger coated in spit from Ste's own mouth. Ste felt himself clench tightly before he relaxed from a coaxing hand on his belly. He hadn't been penetrated for some time and judging by the smile on Brendan's face, the older man realised this too.

"Don't get cocky." Ste warned him.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Steven." Brendan smiled in return, pushing his index finger in deeper, finding that delicious spot inside that made Ste clamp his lips shut. "Don't hold out on me now." Brendan teased, but there was a desperation to his voice that Ste didn't miss.

Ste breathed out heavily. "Fuck!" He shouted, feeling his legs shake around Brendan's firm hands.

"Another?" Brendan asked and Ste felt the familiar nudge alongside the finger already inside. He was being stretched open, laid bare to Brendan and all the while anticipating the main event. Ste began to sweat at the thought of it.

"Brendan." Ste whimpered, hips unable to remain still. "_Please_."

Brendan, seemingly unable to deny him anything at this point, removed his fingers and lined himself up. He paused, hesitant. Ste nodded quickly to his trouser pocket where Brendan fished out a condom.

Brendan raised his eyebrows, amused and intrigued.

"Don't say a word." Ste warned, wrapping his legs around Brendan's shoulders.

"Wouldn't dare." Brendan grunted, inch by inch pushing himself inside. "Jesus." He breathed. "So fucking tight, Steven."

Ste gave an incoherent response; tightening and relaxing his muscles to accommodate Brendan's cock.

They moved slowly at first, a gentle rock between their bodies. Ste shifted his legs a little, not quite comfortable yet.

"Ye still bend?" Brendan asked, a low grunt.

Ste nodded eagerly, pulling his legs towards his stomach and tilting back to give Brendan better access.

"I'm gonna fuck ye in every position imaginable." Brendan kept his movements slow, measured. Ste could feel the pressure building up inside him but he was no where near the edge just yet.

Brendan moved forwards, pushing Ste's legs apart so they were wide and hovering in mid air. He lowered his body onto his, kissing him while he moved in and out, hardly removing himself from the warmth of Ste's body.

"You can't keep this up." Ste whispered.

"I know." Brendan agreed. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Shut up." Ste scolded him, pushing Brendan's hands onto his ankles. "Hold me."

Without further provocation, Ste began to tilt his pelvis up, thrusting himself onto Brendan's cock. Brendan's eyes sparkled in surprise, his grip tight on Ste's ankles.

"Dreamed of this most nights." Brendan told him, eyes glazed over with desire.

"Me too." Ste admitted, feeling the thin sheen of sweat across his entire body.

Ste's cock lay unattended on his stomach, fully erect and begging to be touched.

"Hang on." Brendan said, as if he was reading his mind. He lowered Ste's legs carefully, moving with Ste's body and remaining inside until they were both on their sides, Brendan's chest flush against Ste's back.

"This is a rare one." Ste said, shifting himself comfortably against Brendan's body.

"Fresh start, Steven." Brendan murmured, kissing the point between his neck and shoulder blade. He began to gently thrust, his arms around Ste keeping him close. One hand found his cock and began to stroke to the rhythm of his movements. Ste turned his head enough to capture his lips, enjoying the limited movement of their position and the way it made him ache for his orgasm even more.

"Brendan." He said in a strangled voice.

"I know." Brendan breathed, increasing his movements both inside and the hand against Ste's cock.

"I'm gonna come." Ste shuddered and spasmed, almost flying off the bed except for the weight of Brendan's body against his own. Brendan's thrusts became erratic and uncoordinated until he too climaxed.

They breathed heavily, coated in sweat and the scent of each other. Ste had missed the smell of sex; after so long it came to him headier and sweeter than he remembered. Brendan didn't withdraw straight away; instead he kissed along Ste's back, eliciting goosebumps all over his flesh.

"That was…" Ste found himself giggling uncontrollably. Brendan ran a hand down his stomach, calm and amused.

"Yeah?"

"So good I can't talk." Ste rasped, twitching a little in Brendan's arms.

"I'm gonna take it out." Brendan warned him, doing so as slowly as possible. Ste watched him discard the condom, eyes fixed on him at all times. "Look at ye." Brendan said, rubbing a thumb against his cheek.

"I must look a state." Ste laughed, a little self conscious now.

"Beautiful." Brendan murmured so quietly that Ste almost didn't hear him; he wasn't certain Brendan wanted him to.

"I can't stay." Ste said reluctantly, glancing at the time.

Brendan groaned, pulling him close once more in an embrace. His legs locked around Ste's, his arms solid and reassuring.

"Brendan." Ste laughed, attempting to move away.

"Ye can't leave, I forbid it."

Ste raised his eyebrows, small smirk on his lips. "I have to, you know that."

"I know nothing of the sort." Brendan said, kissing him. Ste could feel the redness around his mouth and wondered how he would get back downstairs without Sam knowing what he'd been up to.

"I'll come back tomorrow, I promise."

Brendan hesitated, that sad look in his eyes again. "Ye won't get delayed this time?"

"No." Ste said, although he wasn't certain. "You could come by the club though, if you're worried."

"Where anyone could see me?" Brendan asked, unsure.

"Has to happen sometime." Ste said, coaxing himself slowly out of Brendan's arms.

Brendan rolled onto his stomach, arse poised in mid-air. Ste's eyes drifted, wetting his lips unconsciously.

"Steven, aren't ye going?"

"Um." Ste hesitated, swallowing hard. "Yes. Yes I am."

"Why are ye climbing back onto the bed then?" Brendan smiled as Ste wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close once more.

"I don't think a little longer would hurt."

"Ah see, now that ye are back that's forfeit. I get to decide when ye leave now."

"Brendan!"

"I don't make the rules, Steven. I simply obey them."

Ste sighed deeply. "I suppose I can stay tonight."

Brendan kissed him at these words, giddier than Ste had ever seen him.

"Ye won't regret it."

"I don't doubt that." Ste ran his hands against Brendan's jaw. "You gonna shave sometime?"

Brendan shrugged. "What do ye prefer?"

"I miss my tache."

"Yer tache?" Brendan grinned.

"I own it, I've decided. And I own this…" Ste trailed his hands across Brendan's stomach. "And this…" his hands drifted across his cock. "And…" He hesitated then as he moved to touch Brendan's arse.

Brendan sensed his hesitation, pulling his hand to rest there. He smiled tightly.

"I'm sorry." Ste said sadly.

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't." Ste buried his face into Brendan's shoulder.

"Steven." Brendan stroked his hair gently, soothingly. "Fresh start, remember?"

"That was the first time since you told me, I didn't even realise."

"That's good." Brendan made sure Ste was looking at him as he spoke. "As long as ye still want me-"

"Of course I do." Ste said, burying ever closer against Brendan's body. "I'm frightened already though. It's so easy to lose you."

"Steven, don't." Brendan pulled him in even closer, if that were possible. "I… I love ye, okay? This is it for me. I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise me." Ste said, eyes boring into Brendan's.

"With my life." Brendan said solemnly, wiping the tears that were beginning to form from Ste's eyes.

"Okay." Ste agreed, relaxing as best he could. "I'll come after you myself if you dare anyway."

Brendan laughed then, diffusing the remaining tension.

"Ye have worn me out, boy."

"Hey, I'm not a boy!"

"No ye aren't." Brendan said, eyes dark with desire once more.

"Again?" Ste laughed incredulously.

"I'll go all night if I have to." Brendan growled, rolling Ste on top of him.

"I guess it's my turn then." Ste's eyes glittered.

"It seems that way, doesn't it?"

"Mmm." Ste toyed with the hairs at Brendan's chest. "Before we go again though, promise me one more thing."

"Name it."

Ste moved close, nose to nose. "Steal my pillow and the covers, let me tangle our legs together and my god, roll on top of me all you bloody well like."

Brendan smiled, understanding the implication and claiming Ste's lips all over again in answer.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

When Brendan opened his eyes again it was still dark. He glanced over at the luminous bedside clock and read the time: two thirty am. Steven was tucked underneath his chin, legs thrown across Brendan's own as promised. Brendan was on his side, holding him tight, lips in his hair.

It was wonderful to wake up like this and Brendan was just wondering what had woken him in the first place when he heard a buzzing sound from the floor. Steven didn't stir, even when Brendan slowly disengaged himself from his arms and padded across the room to the source of the noise. The buzzing was coming from Steven's trouser pocket. At one glance at the screen Brendan saw Samuel's name. He grunted in annoyance, putting the phone back in Steven's pocket.

"Bren?" Steven murmured from the bed, not as sound asleep as Brendan had thought.

"Shh, go back to sleep. It's only half two."

Steven smirked, eyes still closed. "That reminds me."

"What?"

"I lied that first night I stayed with you. I knew it was gone seven in the morning."

Brendan crawled back into bed, staring at Steven in disbelief. "Ye serious?"

"Yup. Only way I could get the whole night with you."

"Ye little sod." Brendan scolded, but his voice was teasing.

"I think I probably fell in love with you that night." Steven said wistfully, still in a half awake, half dream state.

"Is that right?"

"Yeah." He said sleepily. "Who phoned me?" He asked around a yawn.

Brendan hesitated. "Yer dad."

"Oh." Steven's eyes didn't open. "Bit late, init?"

"He must be worried."

Steven let out a small puff of air. "Go fetch it for me."

"Lazy fucker." Brendan muttered, nudging him in the side.

Steven smiled coyly. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Now how can I say no to that?" Brendan laughed, stepping out of bed once more to fetch the phone.

Steven stared bleary eyed at the screen. "Five missed calls, ouch."

"Wouldn't he just assume ye are here?"

Steven opened his eyes fully then, looking at Brendan and saying nothing.

"What?"

"Maybe that's what worries him."

Brendan snorted. "Because I'm so dangerous, is that it?"

"Well, maybe to him."

"Ye said ye didn't mention me."

"I didn't, much. But you're pretty well known around here."

"People still talk about me then?"

"A bit, yeah." Steven said, putting his phone back on the side, switched off. "That should settle him."

"What did ye say?"

"That I'm lying in your bed, fucked out of my mind and about to give you a blow job."

"Seriously?"

"No, course not."

"So I'm not getting a blow job?"

Steven grinned at him. "I didn't say that." He said sweetly, rising from the bed.

"Yeah?" Brendan's voice became lowered, strained.

Steven shifted down to the end of the bed. "You want me to?"

"Is it even a question?" Brendan felt Steven's hands on his thigh, grip warm and tight.

"I like to hear you say it." Steven said, eyes blazing.

Brendan reached forwards to cup his cheek, rubbing his thumb across his jaw.

"Swallow me down then."

Steven's eyes glittered seductively. His lips parted, closing around the tip of Brendan's cock. Brendan's eyes rolled back as he collapsed once more against the pillows. Steven started with gentle, teasing licks to the tip, sucking a little to moisten it further. His hand rested comfortably against the base of Brendan's cock, beginning the slow stroke up and down.

His lips moved lower, tongue darting out continuously in his mouth, breath hot against Brendan's skin. His other hand moved to cup Brendan's balls, palming them as he lowered his mouth further around Brendan's cock. Brendan's legs began to twitch as Steven sped up, spit becoming more pronounced and the friction of his hand increasing.

Brendan tangled his fingers in Steven's hair, soft grunts escaping his lips. He chanced opening his eyes, took one look at Steven's red, plush lips around his cock, blue eyes shining desirably, shuddered and came down his throat. Steven gagged a little but swallowed him down obediently, licking his lips afterwards and giving Brendan a wide grin.

"Feel better?"

"Jesus." Brendan breathed, thumb brushing Steven's lips.

Steven crawled up the bed between Brendan's legs, laying against his chest. Brendan wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin atop his hair once more. The flat was silent save the sounds of their breaths and the steady beats of their hearts. Brendan didn't remember drifting off to sleep but the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by Steven, bright light shining through the curtains.

"Someone at the door." He murmured, looking fearful.

Brendan sat up carefully, giving his cock a rub absently.

Steven eyed him, his own morning presence peeking through his boxers.

"Damn." Brendan muttered, thinking of better things they could be doing. He slipped some clothes on from yesterday before padding to the door. He opened it without even really looking to see who it was, which was a mistake.

Samuel strode into the flat, dressed in a smart suit and looking determined.

"Come in." Brendan muttered unnecessarily.

"Where is he?" Samuel asked, voice tight.

Brendan inclined his head down the hall, resigned look on his face.

Before Samuel took another step, Steven appeared rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Brendan was relieved to see him dressed.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" He asked, perplexed.

"Steven," Samuel said, voice softening. He strode forwards and took him by the shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me where you were? I was worried."

"I texted you." Steven answered vaguely.

"After I called several times." Samuel said. Brendan could see how much effort he was putting into staying calm. It unnerved him somewhat.

"Yeah but you must have known I was okay after leaving the club. It's not as though you came looking for me." Steven frowned.

Brendan stiffened, remembering what Anne had told him last night about finding Steven in the cellar. Had Samuel gone back to the club to release him and panicked when he didn't find him there? Perhaps he'd been afraid Steven had realised the truth. Brendan stared at him, eyes hard. Samuel didn't return his gaze.

"I thought you'd leave straight after me; I got called away and left the keys for you to lock up. But when I came home you weren't there." Samuel's hands gripped him tighter.

Brendan didn't appreciate his tone, and it was abundantly clear to him that Samuel was lying. Steven didn't seem to have the same reservations.

"The cellar door locked me in, dad. Mitzeee came by and helped me out, lucky she was there really."

"Yes, very fortunate." Samuel agreed, relaxing a little.

"And then I came to see Brendan." Steven finished, offering no extra details.

Samuel glanced at Brendan. "I know you're an adult, Steven but I'd still like to know where you are."

"I know, sorry." Steven said sheepishly.

Brendan refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Have you eaten? I'll treat you to some breakfast if you like."

Steven glanced warily at Brendan. "Can Brendan come too? He hasn't eaten either."

Samuel paused, his jaw set. "Of course, if he hasn't got anywhere better to be." He replied stiffly.

Brendan slung a casual arm around Steven's shoulders. "Where else would I rather be?"

Steven nudged him warningly in the ribs, giving him a stern look. Brendan smiled back at him, slowly drawing a smile from Steven's lips. Samuel watched this exchange silently.

"Where we going then?" Steven asked, smile still in place.

"How about that place we took the kids last time they visited?" Samuel suggested, giving Brendan a sideways look.

"The kids?" Brendan turned to Steven in surprise.

Steven flushed visibly. "Oh, yeah. They've been down here quite a lot since dad arrived. You should see our Leah, proper little madam now."

"She wasn't already?" Brendan responded. Inside his stomach was clenching. Samuel was smiling in a satisfied sort of way. "Amy's okay with it?"

Steven's smile faltered. "She came around eventually once I… uh, sorted myself out."

Brendan nodded, knowing that Steven meant once Brendan was out of his system.

"Hey." Steven said softly, brushing his arm and giving him a reassuring smile. "I'll call Amy, get her to bring them down sometime."

"Yeah." Brendan nodded, eyes downcast. His thoughts drifted to his own children and he wondered whether Eileen would let him see them.

Steven opened his mouth as though to voice that very thought until Samuel spoke instead.

"I'll bring the car round, see you out front." He patted Steven's arm and gave Brendan another glance before letting himself out. Brendan released a breath, relieved to be alone together again.

"Bit intense, yer dad." Brendan noted, eyes narrowing at the space Samuel had left.

Steven shrugged, flattening his hair. "He loves me, he's always been like that."

"In the two years ye have known him?" Brendan said thoughtlessly. Steven frowned at him.

"You got something to say, Brendan?" He challenged.

"No, Steven." Brendan said darkly, thinking of Samuel being the dutiful granddad to Leah and Lucas, probably getting it better second time around easier than Brendan had.

"Do you want to come out with us or not?" Steven sighed.

"Yeah." Brendan mumbled. "Course I do."

"Then you're gonna have to make the effort with my dad, aren't ya? He ain't going anywhere and neither are you so…"

"I'm not?" Brendan asked, looking up once more. He sounded unbearably vulnerable even to his own ears.

Steven's expression softened. "You idiot, you think I'm gonna ditch you now after everything? Don't be soft."

Brendan smiled, feeling immeasurably better. "I'll fetch my coat then."

Of course Samuel had a fancy car. It was sleek and black, reminiscent of Brendan's old car. Steven grinned at Brendan as Samuel wound down the passenger side window.

"Who wants to get in the front then? Steven?"

Steven hesitated, glancing at Brendan. Brendan could almost read his mind; he knew that Brendan would feel emasculated riding in the back with Samuel at the wheel, but the idea of them both sitting in the front together was unthinkable as well. Brendan took the decision out of his hands, opening the front door for Steven to slide inside.

"Thanks." Steven said, giving him a knowing look.

Brendan slipped in the back seat, resting himself across two seats, legs spread out. He saw Samuel glance at him in the rear-view mirror but he didn't comment as they sped away.

It was only a short drive thankfully. Steven filled the empty silence with inane chatter. Brendan closed his eyes, allowing his voice to warm and calm him like it had done all those years ago. When the car stopped Brendan jerked. He'd almost drifted off to sleep. Steven smiled at him, poking his tongue out. Brendan raised his eyebrows, remembering exactly what that tongue had done to him in the early hours of the morning. His cock stirred at the memory.

"Come on, Steven." Samuel said, cutting into Brendan's thoughts.

Brendan recognised the restaurant they were at; he'd taken Cheryl here in his first few months in the village. He wasn't used to being out in public so noticeably and he felt a few eyes falling on him in recognition. It was hardly surprising; he'd been all over the news when he'd been arrested.

Steven shuffled closer to him, allowing Samuel to lead the way inside. Steven was different around his dad, younger somehow. It made Brendan uncomfortable and wary. He would most definitely be keeping an eye on the both of them.

Samuel seemed to know the owner; all smiles and shaking hands. They were seated at a table near a window; Samuel sitting opposite the two of them. Brendan suddenly had a déjà vu moment, remembering when he had first met Eileen's parents. He coughed, feeling uncomfortable.

They ordered their drinks, studying the menu carefully.

"Why did ye order a coke, Steven? It's only half ten."

Steven shrugged, playing with the straw. "I like my sugar boost in the morning, don't I?"

Brendan rolled his eyes at the same time Samuel did. They locked eyes, mouths set in a firm line.

"Anyway, err our Lucas sent me this picture in the post last week. I kept it in my wallet." Steven drew out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Brendan.

Brendan squinted at the figures drawn, trying to decipher who they were.

"That's me." Steven said, pointing to a man with yellow hair. "That's dad." He said, pointing to a larger man in a suit. "And you're there too."

"Me?" Brendan said in some surprise.

"Yeah next to Leah." Steven said, pointing. And lo and behold, there he was.

"He remembers me?" Brendan asked, stunned.

"Course he does. Leah goes on about you all the time, drives Amy mad." Steven chuckled and Brendan couldn't help smiling in return, staring in wonder at the picture.

"How's he getting on at school?" Brendan asked, quickly calculating how old he would be by now.

"Not bad, he's a bit naughty." Steven said, with some pride. "Chip off the old block."

"And Leah?"

Steven's face lit up. "She's our little genius, must have gotten Amy's brains. She's top of the class for spelling, can you believe that?"

"I can." Brendan said, handing the picture back to Steven. "She ran rings around the rest of us."

"She's excellent at science as well." Samuel said, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Must be from that bug motel." Steven grinned, nudging Brendan with his elbow.

"Yeah, must be." Brendan agreed, watching as Samuel's face hardened.

They ordered breakfast; Brendan opting for a full English, Samuel ordering the same. Steven settled for some toast and egg on the side.

"That's not a meal." Brendan commented, pushing a sausage onto his plate.

"Not that hungry, me." Steven said, chewing the corners of his toast delicately.

Samuel sighed. "I keep trying to get him to eat more but he won't. I cook him all sorts of dishes and he barely finishes them."

"Ye still load up on ketchup?" Brendan asked, looking at Steven.

"Sometimes." Steven shrugged. "Dad finds it a bit gross."

"I didn't say that, son."

"It don't matter." Steven said, tucking into his egg. "This'll do me."

Samuel and Brendan exchanged worried glances. They seemed to be united on one thing at least: Steven's wellbeing.

"So Brendan," Samuel began thoughtfully. "What are your plans now?"

Brendan stared at him levelly. "I have some money put aside for the time being but I guess I'll have to look into new business ventures. I'm looking for another flat too, indefinitely."

Steven made a small noise of protest. "But you're so close upstairs."

"The flat's a shithole, Steven. I need my space, now more than ever."

Steven frowned, laying his fork down. "I guess your old place is empty, you could give that a try?"

"It is?" Brendan asked in some surprise.

Steven shrugged. "No one's stuck around, said it weirded them out too much after everything that happened."

"What happened to the rest of our stuff?" Brendan asked, dreading the answer. "I know Chez put all mine in storage but…"

"She took most of it to Ireland. She chucked all of Seamus' stuff out." Steven paused, realising his error. "Shit, Brendan I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." Brendan grunted, waving his apologies aside.

Samuel stared at them in interest but didn't comment, which was a good thing. Brendan wasn't sure how he would react to probing questions.

They descended into silence. Brendan could feel Steven twitching in discomfort beside him. Brendan automatically reached out and grasped his leg reassuringly. Steven visibly relaxed, flashing him a smile. Brendan felt warmth pool in his belly at his expression. He was so beautiful. Brendan didn't know how he had coped without him all these years. He was reminded of what he once told him, that Steven made him believe the world could be good again. Maybe now was their second chance at a happy ending.

Samuel coughed, diverting Brendan's thoughts back to the current situation.

"I'll get the bill." He offered.

"That's alright, my shout." Brendan said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

"I insist." Samuel said tightly.

Steven stared between the two of them, exasperated. "How about we all pay for ourselves, huh?" He threw some money down on the table, eliciting noises of protest from both men. "You're both ridiculous." Steven sighed, going up to fetch the waitress.

Brendan and Samuel stared at each other across the table. Samuel clasped his hands together, all business.

"So, what kind of new business ventures will you be looking into?" Samuel asked pleasantly.

"I haven't quite decided yet." Brendan answered carefully. "I'm sure there are plenty of clubs around that I can invest in."

Samuel laughed dryly. "Is that what you really want to do, Brendan?"

Brendan shrugged. "It's all I've ever done, mostly."

"Mostly." Samuel repeated, eyeing him. "I might have a proposition for you."

"Yeah?" Brendan quirked an eyebrow. "If ye are offering for me to invest in Chez Chez, I'm not interested."

Samuel smiled pleasantly. "Of course not. I'm quite content to run that myself. I was offering you a job, of the more menial variety."

"Seriously?" Brendan asked in disbelief.

Samuel leaned forwards, voice low. "I'm not a bad man, Brendan, no matter what you might think. I only have Steven's best interests at heart."

"Is that why ye locked him in the cellar?" Brendan challenged, all pretence at civility evaporating.

Samuel's expression barely altered. "Well, I'll admit that was… rash."

"Ye admit it?" Brendan asked incredulously.

"Of course, I'm not a dishonest man, mostly." He smiled wider at that. "Can you honestly tell me you've never done anything untoward to look out for him though?" He stared at Brendan levelly, waiting for his response.

"Whatever I've done, I'm different now. I won't lie to him, and I certainly won't hurt him again."

"Again?" Samuel's expression did change now. His eyes flashed dangerously.

"I thought ye knew all about me." Brendan said, leaning forwards himself now.

"Not everything." Samuel said, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

"Still want to offer me that job?" Brendan asked lightly.

Samuel paused for a moment. "I do. If you have to be in my son's life, I at least want to be privy to it."

"So ye wanna spy on us?" Brendan couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"If that's what you want to call it." Samuel said calmly.

"And if I refuse?"

"Why would you refuse? It could take you months to find a new business to invest in, the paperwork alone… I'm offering you an alternative, until you find your feet."

"Bit of a power trip though, isn't it? Me working as a barman." Brendan said distastefully.

"You saying it's a poor choice?" Samuel stared past him at Steven who was about to return to the table.

"No." Brendan said, voice low. "Anything to be close to him."

Samuel nodded, his voice picking up in volume. "That's settled then."

"What is?" Steven asked curiously, slipping back into his seat.

"Brendan's accepted my offer of a job at the club."

"Seriously?" Steven seemed wary, he glanced between the two men. Brendan knew he wasn't stupid and he also knew Samuel had grossly underestimated the both of them.

"It's true." Brendan said quietly, staring at Steven directly. "If it's alright with ye."

"Well, yeah! Course it is." Steven wrapped his arms around Brendan's neck, drawing him close. "It'll be almost like old times." He laughed, breath warm against Brendan's skin.

"Yeah." Brendan said carefully, holding Steven and watching as Samuel raised his glass, slipping him a knowing wink. "Like old times."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Brendan stood in front of the bathroom sink, razor in hand. He tilted his chin up, blades resting against the hair above his Adam's apple. He sheared the first line, feeling oddly satisfied. He did this several times until he was left with an almost goatee. Making sure to envisage the shape correctly, he removed the remaining hair around his jaw and chin, leaving a distinct stubble around the contours of his recently reformed moustache.

There was a lot of hair in the sink and Brendan turned the tap on to wash it all away, and with it the old Brendan; the Brendan who had thought he'd spend the rest of his days rotting in prison.

On his bed a suit was laid out, a new one. It was dark blue with a white shirt to wear underneath. Putting it on felt like replacing a second skin. He checked himself in the mirror, smoothing his moustache down and staring at his reflection. He almost looked like the same man. Almost.

He stepped out the door of the flat, down the steps and into the outside world. He was back at his old place now; Steven had been right in thinking it would be available for him again. He was starting at work today after spending the week previous organising a few of his assets. Steven had been to visit the kids, promising Brendan that he would ask Amy to bring them down soon. Brendan wasn't optimistic. He feared Amy's reaction to Brendan's reappearance in Steven's life. Steven had been insistent on telling her, not wanting to repeat old mistakes.

Brendan took his first steps out into the village, head held high. It wasn't long until he saw a few familiar faces. Darren Osborne almost walked into the wall at the sight of him, mouth agape and fearful.

"Brendan!" He exclaimed. "You're err… back?"

"So it would seem." Brendan said coolly.

"Anything you need, mate. Free drinks or whatever, name it."

Brendan stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Alright…" He said slowly, suspicious of this sudden generosity.

Darren nodded eagerly, tripping over himself in his haste to get out of Brendan's way.

Next up was Douglas. He was holding a coffee at the time of Brendan's arrival. Needless to say he hardly noticed the warm liquid pooling around his feet from where he'd dropped it.

"You've got to be kidding me." He said harshly, eyes widening in disbelief.

"Nice to see ye too, Douglas." Brendan said mildly. "Like what ye have done with the place." He commented.

"Is that some kind of joke?" Douglas retorted, eyebrows knitting together.

"No need to be so fiery, Douglas." Brendan said conspiratorially.

"Ha, hilarious." Douglas rolled his eyes. "How did you even get out?"

"Oh ye know, killed a few prison guards, jumped over barbed wire, chased by dogs. That kinda thing."

Douglas laughed along with him without real humour. "You back for good?" He asked, genuinely curious this time.

Brendan glanced around himself, for the first time feeling uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess."

"Long as you've got Ste, right?" Douglas said, voice taking on a new tone. Brendan stared at him suspiciously. "Don't start, Brendan. That ship has well and truly sailed."

"So I heard." Brendan said, moving closer and lowering his voice.

"I'll tell you all about it sometime." Douglas said. Brendan wasn't entirely sure if he was being serious or not.

"Sure." Brendan nodded, stepping back and continuing on his way. "Love the uniform change by the way." He called to him, several feet away now.

"Thanks, Ste's idea before everything went up in smoke, quite literally!"

"Ye know what they say, Douglas. No smoke without fire…"

"Yeah, whatever." Douglas said, waving him aside and stepping back inside the deli.

As he drew closer to the club, faces became more hostile. Brendan hadn't expected anything less; he was still a murderer in their eyes. The likes of Frankie Osborne gave him disdainful looks, Jack Osborne appearing unsure and somewhat hardened by the sight of him. Brendan began to feel the prickling of unease. He felt exposed, on display. He wasn't sure how much people knew about the shooting, nor did he want to find out.

He glanced up at the club's balcony, a million memories hitting him at once. Samuel was up there now, surveying the village with a coffee in his hand.

Brendan grunted in displeasure, wondering if the degradation was even worth the trouble. He was just about to turn back home when a voice cut straight through him.

"Brendan!"

He turned and next thing he knew, Steven was in his arms, clinging to him tightly and without abandon. A few people turned to look at them, eyebrows raised. Steven ignored them, giving Brendan a long, hard kiss.

"Missed you." He whispered as they drew apart, eyelashes fluttering against Brendan's skin.

"Missed ye too." Brendan breathed, feeling as though a weight had been lifted.

"You coming up?" Steven waved up at Samuel, who gave a curt nod in response. Evidently he had witnessed the entire show.

"Yeah." Brendan said, feeling more relaxed with Steven by his side but still dreading entering the club.

Steven sensed his reluctance easily. "You don't have to." He said quietly. "It's still early days yet."

"No. I need to do this." Brendan took a deep breath. Only Steven could see him like this; vulnerable, scared. He didn't trust many others to witness this other side to him.

"Then we'll do it together." Steven said, leading the way to the door.

The first sensation Brendan felt as he stepped inside was cold relief. He had imagined all sorts in the sleepless night he'd endured; Seamus' ghost lingering in corners to belittle and demoralise him, maybe some blood stains on the floor. He found none of these things and chastised himself for getting spooked over a now dead man.

Steven's eyes were on him the entire time as they moved around the club, eventually mounting the stairs. Brendan's gaze fixated on that particular spot and for a moment he thought he had seen a ghost, until it became evident that it was simply Samuel's shadow.

"Brendan." He greeted, gripping his hand in a brief shake. His feet scuffed the area in question, as though it was nothing. Steven touched the small of Brendan's back in comfort, communicating without words that he understood how he was feeling.

"Where do ye want me, boss?" Brendan asked lightly. His stance indicated he wasn't going to back down or demean himself here. Samuel straightened to his full height, a match for Brendan's own. Steven stood in between them, smaller but no less fierce.

"He can move them crates in the cellar." Steven piped up, crossing his arms. "Payback for all those I had to shift for him."

"I don't seem to remember ye complaining." Brendan said, voice a low hum. Steven blushed, biting his lip to prevent himself from grinning.

"You sure you can manage the crates in that suit, Brendan?" Samuel asked smoothly.

"I've lifted heavier." Brendan said, once more shooting Steven a knowing look. Steven laughed this time, biting his knuckles to stifle the sound. Samuel stared at them coolly.

"Alright." He said, moving towards the office. "I'll be in here devising our new rota." He said it like it was a threat.

"He'll put us on separate shifts, mark my words." Brendan told Steven once Samuel had disappeared behind the office door.

"Course not." Steven said dismissively, grabbing a tea towel and throwing it in Brendan's direction.

"What's this for?" Brendan asked, holding the offending object in one hand.

"Nothing, I just really wanted to do that." Steven replied, grinning widely.

"I can expect a lot of this treatment, can't I?" Brendan asked, amused.

Steven shrugged, moving towards the cellar door. "You asked for it really."

Brendan sighed, following Steven down the steps. "Two wrongs don't make a right, Steven."

"Whatever." Steven's teeth flashed as he bent down towards a crate. His froze mid-way, wincing in pain.

"Hey." Brendan caught him around the middle, all humour gone. "What is it?"

"Just the injury from the fire." Steven explained, expression returning to normal.

"Let's see." Brendan said shortly.

"Bren-"

"Come on." Brendan crossed his arms resolutely. Steven sighed, slowly lifting up his shirt.

Brendan hissed, amazed that he hadn't spotted it before when they'd been intimate. It wasn't noticeable at first, in his defence, but now that he saw the physicality of it there was no denying it's existence. Steven turned his head to look at him sheepishly.

"That's just the burn mark; the twinges I get are a muscle spasm. The back's been through a lot, you know?"

"Does the scar hurt?" Brendan asked, tracing his fingers gently over the slightly puckered and raised skin.

"It stretches sometimes but no, not really." Steven pulled his top back down, seemingly self-conscious.

"I'm sorry." Brendan said quietly, bowing his head to avoid looking into Steven's eyes.

"What for?" Steven asked incredulously. "You weren't even there."

"Exactly." Brendan said, voice breaking around the word.

Steven said nothing and the silence stretched between them.

"How did it happen? The burn?" Brendan asked eventually.

Steven frowned, tongue darting out of his mouth in thought. "My back hit the wall, I must have fallen onto my front. The flames were pretty bad."

Brendan shuffled awkwardly on his feet, unsure what to say next.

"It's nothing." Steven said dismissively. "Dad says it's becoming, whatever that means."

Brendan's eyes snapped back to Steven's face. "Yer dad has seen ye naked?"

"What? No!"

"Steven!" Brendan started forwards, desperate. "He hasn't, has he? Tell me he hasn't."

"Brendan, stop it." Steven pleaded, trying to wring his hands out of Brendan's tight grip. "You're scaring me."

Brendan dropped his hands immediately, as though he too had been burnt. "Sorry." he mumbled.

Steven stared at him, his horror replaced with deep concern. "It's okay. Listen, he's just seen me after a shower, or putting my shirt on. That's all."

Brendan breathed out through his nose. "I don't like it, Steven. I don't like ye living with him."

"Why?" Steven asked, clearly confused.

"I don't-" Brendan stopped himself from saying 'trust him'. He didn't have any proof to offer Steven of his distrust. Instead he changed tact. "I want ye with me of course." This was also true, undeniable.

Steven's expression softened. "Maybe you should have stayed living above me then." He answered coyly.

Brendan shrugged, unable to voice all of the many reasons he couldn't stay in that flat. It wasn't just the fact that Samuel was living below, a constant shadow over them. It was also because, no matter what had happened there, Brendan's old place felt like home. It was his last link to Lynsey, and even Cheryl in a way. It held both good memories and bad but he needed those memories to remind him why he was still here and why he wouldn't get himself into any unnecessary trouble that would take him away again.

"Well I can come round anytime, and you can come to ours."

_Ours. _

Brendan remembered a time when it had been theirs. Toothbrushes lined up next to each other, single dressing gown always a puddle on the bedroom floor. He remembered how they would put the kids to sleep each night and then tiptoe back to their bedroom, or sometimes fall asleep together on the sofa watching rubbish on television.

Brendan had been told how most of his belongings had been taken out of the flat at the time of his arrest. He wondered if Steven had been able to keep anything, and whether it was wise to ask him or not.

Steven stared at him, seeing the numerous emotions playing across his face.

"Let's just work for a bit, yeah?" He suggested nervously.

"Ye might as well go back up; I'll shift these."

"Yeah." Steven said, scuffing his shoe against a crate. "It's funny, init? I was so flexible the other night and yet I bend down and-"

"It's probably an unconscious pain." Brendan interrupted him. "John Watson had the same thing; his war injury would only play up when he was aware of it. Other times when he was in the heat of the moment he would run without issue. Funny thing."

Steven stared at him blankly. "Who's John Watson?"

Brendan chuckled. "Sherlock Holmes? No?"

"Oh that gay film." Steven nodded, brushing past Brendan. "I rented that ages ago, bit confusing."

"Gay film?" Brendan blinked at him.

Steven grinned, shrugging. "Brokeback was better."

Brendan snorted in disdain. "Eileen watched that with me once, I thought I was going to die of discomfort."

"I'm not surprised, you idiot." Steven said good-naturedly. "Fancy watching that with her!"

"I didn't know! I thought it was some cowboy film, like John Wayne or whatever."

"John who?"

"Oh just go upstairs." Brendan laughed, patting Steven indelicately on the arse.

Xxx

Brendan had to take his suit jacket off very quickly. He rolled his sleeves up, wiping his forehead where sweat had formed on his brow. He'd shifted all the necessary crates and now he was resting against the bar, head bowed in exhaustion.

"Having fun?" Steven asked jovially, popping up beside him.

"Ugh." Brendan responded, closing his eyes.

"Not so easy, is it?" Steven asked, absolutely delighted with himself.

"Ugh." Brendan repeated.

"Hello, lover boys." A voice piped up. Brendan lifted his head up briefly to acknowledge Mitzeee's arrival, Phoenix tottering next to her.

"Hey, little man!" Steven greeted him happily, scooping him immediately into his arms. He was a natural. Brendan wished he had the same affinity with children. The only one he'd ever really succeeded with was Leah.

"Did ye talk to Amy, Steven?" Brendan asked, the thought of Leah reminding him of Steven's trip.

Steven's expression fell. He avoided Brendan's eyes as he put Phoenix down on one of the sofas. "Err…"

"What's this?" Mitzeee asked, perching on one of the bar stools.

"I went to visit Amy, told her about Brendan being back."

"And?" Mitzeee pressed, almost as keen to hear the outcome as Brendan was.

Steven smiled sheepishly. "She took it better than I thought but…"

"But…?" Brendan prompted, alert now, fatigue momentarily forgotten.

"But then Leah heard us talking." Steven said, hiding a smile. "She insisted we come down here and see you and that annoyed Amy pretty bad."

"Oh dear." Mitzeee said, sighing. "That one always did have her nose out of joint."

"Mitz!" Steven scolded, nudging her. "That's the mother of me kids!"

"So?" Mitzeee slipped Brendan a wink. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Anne." Brendan said warningly.

Steven rolled his eyes, letting it pass. "Anyway, she said no. We argued a bit about the usual but eventually she agreed as long as dad was present." Steven averted his eyes at this last part, with good reason. Brendan felt his anger swelling inside of him. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying what he desperately wanted to.

Mitzeee frowned, voicing her own concerns. "What's Sam got to do with it?"

"I dunno." Steven said, shrugging. "It seemed important to her so I agreed."

Brendan let out a loud breath.

"Come on, Bren. What else could I do?"

"Oh I don't know, defend me?" Brendan retorted, then instantly regretted it. "But of course ye shouldn't, Amy's right about me."

"She isn't though!" Steven insisted. "She doesn't know what your dad did to ya."

"Ste." Mitzeee said, voice low.

"It's not a get out of jail free card." Brendan said, the irony not lost on him. "When are they coming then?"

"Couple of weeks." Steven said hesitantly.

"Couple of… right." Brendan sighed, rubbing his temple.

"I'm glad I told her, right! We're doing things differently this time." Steven said defensively. "I'll take Phoenix outside for a bit, yeah?" Steven asked Mitzeee, voice softer.

Mitzeee nodded, distracted. Once they were down the steps and out of sight, Mitzeee laid a reassuring hand on his arm.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly.

"I don't know." Brendan said tiredly.

"Talk to me." Mitzeee said coaxingly. Her gaze was unwavering on his face.

"Everything's building up already and I can feel myself stretched so thin." Brendan said, voice low and hurried.

"You won't lose him." Mitzeee said determinedly as if reading his thoughts.

"Ye reckon? His dad's so deep under his skin, and Amy too. How can I compete with family, huh?"

"You _are _family." Mitzeee pressed, grip tightening on his arm. "Ste loves you, you must know that."

"Yeah." Brendan said gruffly. "But is that enough? After everything? I'm not so sure anymore."

"Then get sure!" Mitzeee hissed. "You can't let him go again, you have to keep fighting it, no matter what they throw at you."

Brendan chuckled darkly. "I get the feeling they're gonna chuck a load at me, Anne."

"Just know that I'm on your side." Mitzeee said, voice quiet and serious.

"Isn't Samuel a better boss?" Brendan asked dryly.

"No." Mitzeee said with such conviction that it startled Brendan. "Listen, Bren… I'd keep an eye on him if I were you."

"Ye don't trust him either?"

"I trust _you_, and Ste." Mitzeee answered fiercely. "I just wish…" she sighed, regret colouring her tone. "I just wish I'd come back here sooner, for Ste's sake."

"Ye weren't to know what was going on."

"I know but…" Mitzeee bit her lip.

"What are ye thinking?"

"I don't think it's healthy, Brendan." Mitzeee said in a rush, as though she'd been sitting on these thoughts for some time. "His dad swans in here, gets the club, moves in, doesn't let Ste out of his sight…" Mitzeee glanced around nervously. "I've never seen Ste so… co-dependent. He lives on his dad's words. It's frightening."

"Ye don't feel the same about me and Steven?" Brendan asked wryly.

"It's not the same." Mitzeee said dismissively. "Not to me anyway."

Brendan frowned, considering Mitzeee's words. "Ye really think he's bad news?"

"I think he loves Ste and he'd do anything to make sure he has him close by." Mitzeee said, speaking slowly as though drumming each word into Brendan's mind. "And another thing, why has he given you this job? It's weird."

"Hey." Brendan said defensively. "I did own this place once."

"That's not what I meant." Mitzeee scolded. "Why hire you, let you work alongside Ste everyday?"

"He said he wanted to keep an eye on us." Brendan said slowly.

"Exactly! But why push you even more in each other's way? It doesn't make sense."

"I can't complain." Brendan said. "If I get to stay close to him…"

"But there are other ways, Brendan." Mitzeee said worriedly. "I don't like it."

Brendan laughed shortly. "Ye and me both."

"Then do something, before it's too late." Mitzeee finished her sentence in a rush. Steven had come back upstairs, carrying Phoenix.

"What did I miss?" He asked, glancing between their identical anxious faces.

"Nothing." Brendan said shortly, hearing the office door open behind him.

"Ah, Mitzeee." Samuel greeted her, eyes lighting up.

"Sam." Mitzeee nodded, taking her hand away from Brendan's arm.

"And young Phoenix!" Samuel flashed him a grin. Phoenix blinked at him, offering no more than a shy smile.

"Our Lucas is visiting soon, Phoenix." Steven told him. "That'll be fun, won't it?"

"Will Leah dress me up like a girl again?" Phoenix asked, bottom lip protruding.

Brendan couldn't help smiling at that. "I bet ye looked great, didn't ye?"

Phoenix reached out to stroke Brendan's moustache instead of offering a reply.

"You shaved."

"I did." Brendan nodded.

"Oh yeah…" Steven said, laughing in that ridiculous and yet strangely endearing way of his.

"Can I grow one, Mummy?" Phoenix asked, putting his finger across his top lip.

"When you're older, maybe." Mitzeee laughed.

"Did daddy have one?"

Mitzeee hesitated. Brendan knew it must be hard for her; Phoenix was getting to that age when all he'd have were questions.

"No. He couldn't grow one, sweetheart."

"Does it tickle?" Phoenix asked Brendan.

"No." Brendan answered at the same time as Steven. They exchanged a look.

"What does it feel like then?" Phoenix asked, now looking at Steven.

"Err, quite soft actually." Steven said, smiling.

"Is this appropriate?" Samuel interjected.

Steven's smile faded, his mouth closing.

"I don't understand." Phoenix frowned at his mother. "Aren't Ste and Brendan friends?"

"Of course they are." Mitzeee soothed, shooting Samuel a look. He had the good grace to look uncomfortable.

"Why is that bad?" Phoenix pressed, staring at Brendan.

"It's not." Brendan said, holding out his arms for Phoenix to slot into. Phoenix wrapped his arms around his shoulders tightly.

"Can Brendan come home with us, Mummy? I want to show him my new clothes."

"Of course he can." Mitzeee smiled in a satisfied sort of way. "Your shift's over?"

Samuel coughed. "I suppose he can leave a little early."

"I'll take over." Steven said happily, bouncing behind the bar. "See you later for dinner, yeah?" He gave Mitzeee a kiss on the cheek.

Brendan attempted to hand Phoenix to Mitzeee but he was having none of it.

"Will you be there too?" Steven asked Brendan hopefully.

"If that's alright."

"Course, it's date night!"

"Date night?" Brendan asked blankly, looking from Steven to Mitzeee.

Mitzeee rolled her eyes, amused. "Ste decided ages ago that every Monday we'd have a 'date night' together, just the three of us."

"Seriously?" Brendan didn't know whether to be jealous or not.

"We watch films, I cook for her. We snuggle on the sofa." Steven raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Mitzeee rolled her eyes, giving him a playful nudge. "You're making me sound sad!"

"Aw, course not!" Steven grinned. "It's nice, init?"

"Well I hate to intrude…" Brendan smiled.

"You aren't." Mitzeee said firmly. "Bring a bottle, we'll make a night of it."

Steven stared at his dad uncomfortably. "You should come too, Dad."

Mitzeee and Brendan exchanged a glance.

"That's alright, son. I have a date myself."

"Oh yeah?" Steven's face lit up. "You kept that quiet!"

"Yeah, well. It's early days. She's Italian." Samuel said smoothly, slipping Steven a wink. "I won't be late home." He added soberly.

"Oh, me neither." Steven said quickly. Brendan tensed, reading Samuel like a book.

"You might as well go with them now, Steven."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine."

"Thanks, Dad." Steven gave Samuel a squeeze as he hurried from behind the bar. "Hey maybe we can rent Brokeback, Bren?"

"No thank ye." Brendan said lightly, leading the way down the steps. Even as they walked away he could feel Samuel's eyes burning into the back of them.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Ste remembered sitting alone by the coastline, waves lapping at his feet as he watched the setting sun. He came here most nights to think. He couldn't sleep in that huge bed at Cheryl's. The sheets were too pressed, the bed too warm. He hated the echo as well; it reminded him of the fact that he was alone for good now.

Ste wasn't the sentimental sort and he certainly didn't frequent sandy beaches, even the most windswept ones of Ireland. But it was somehow peaceful here, quiet. He didn't have to put on an act. He didn't have Cheryl's sad eyes fixating on his every move, or Nate's sympathetic smiles. Even better, he didn't have Doug pretending to care about what he was going through, or even trying to understand him. It had never been a strong point of theirs.

Most of all, he could close his eyes and imagine that Brendan was here too. A place where it was warm and quiet, and impenetrable. He hated the idea of Brendan locked away, alone and without Ste. Tears rolled down his cheeks silently. A few dripped down into the sand, leaving the barest mark. Ste was only truly a mark on the sand now; he was nothing like this. He hadn't simply lost Brendan, he had lost a part of himself; a part he had spent years unaware of and one that had once been so full of love and hope and was now ripped apart and torn to pieces.

He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees, feeling the wind ruffle his hair and dry the tears on his face. Maybe he didn't have to go back to Hollyoaks, maybe it was better to stay here. He felt closer to Brendan at least. He wasn't sure if he should visit Dublin. He didn't quite hate himself that much yet.

"Ste, love?"

Ste wiped his eyes hastily but it was pointless; Cheryl knew. She had barely stopped crying since Ste had arrived. Nate had told him how quiet she'd been before his arrival and now the sight of Ste seemed to trigger something raw and unquenchable inside her. Ste heard her sobbing most nights; another reason for his lack of sleep. He knew he was being a burden but he wasn't ready to leave, not yet.

She sat down beside him, pulling her shawl around her bare shoulders. She stared out at the waves with Ste and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry." She said. It wasn't her voice; what had once been full of life and vitality was now dead and drained.

"Don't." Ste replied, his voice raw and scratchy.

"I don't know what to do." She said, barely a whisper.

"You live. It's what he wanted."

"He'd want the same for you too."

They looked at each other then. They were all Brendan had left now; the only two who knew the entire truth about the shooting and about Seamus. But he wouldn't let them visit, neither of them. Cheryl had a court date soon to testify for him but that was it.

"Maybe it'll be okay."

"No, it won't." Ste said, hollowly. "Will you try and talk to him?"

"Not allowed." Cheryl said sadly. "My solicitor said it could hinder the case."

Ste breathed out angrily, hands balling into fists. "It isn't fair."

"You must hate me." Cheryl said, still looking at him. "I wouldn't blame you."

"I don't." Ste said, and it was true.

"Resent me then." Cheryl probed. Ste knew she wanted to be blamed; it was killing her, Brendan's sacrifice.

"He wouldn't want me to, and I don't anyway. "

"This isn't living, Ste." Ste wasn't sure if he was speaking about herself or him. They were one and the same now so it didn't matter. "You should come back inside."

Ste shook his head, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. "Not yet."

"I'll do whatever I can for him you know, in court."

"I know you will."

"It'll never be enough." Cheryl said, staring ahead once more. "He sacrificed everything for me, and what if we never see him again?"

"Cheryl," Ste pleaded, his voice cracking. "I can't."

"I'm sorry." Cheryl said again, descending back into silence.

Eventually she left him be, her footfalls near silent on the sand. Ste stayed there for several more hours until he fell asleep under the night sky; wondering whether Brendan would ever see the stars again.

Xxx

"Steven?" Brendan's voice was low, coaxing. "Ye awake?"

Ste shifted a little, feeling warmth down his side. "Huh?"

"Ye fell asleep during the film." Brendan said softly. "Anne's already gone to bed, Phoenix too."

"We better go home." Ste said, speech slurred and forgetting momentarily that they didn't live together anymore.

"Anne said we can stay in the spare." Brendan murmured. Ste only now realised how close he was. Somehow Ste had crawled up onto Brendan's lap, something covering him.

"Dad will wonder where I am."

"He's out with that Italian, isn't he? I doubt he'll be home tonight."

"I guess." Ste was starting to feel heavier, slipping back into sleep.

"Hey, get to the bed first."

"Won't make it. Legs aren't working."

"Oh how the tables have turned." Brendan chuckled. "Alright, put yer arms around my neck."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

Steven did as he was told. His grip was loose, head lolling onto Brendan's shoulder. Next thing he knew he was being lifted up into Brendan's arms and carried across the room.

"Ye weigh virtually nothing, Steven. What's that about?"

"Dunno." Ste answered sleepily.

Ste knew that Brendan was frowning even though he couldn't see his face.

"I'll bulk up, promise."

"Yeah?" They'd reached the guest room now. Brendan laid Ste on top of the covers. He rolled onto his stomach, squinting up at Brendan.

"I can cook for ya now."

"Ye don't cook for yer dad?"

Ste shrugged. "He hasn't got an appetite like yours."

"Must be where ye get it from then." Brendan sighed. Ste felt the dip in the bed as Brendan sat down. He flicked his shoes across the room, removing his shirt.

"What happened to your jacket?" Ste asked, little realising that it was draped across one of his shoulders.

"Ye looked cold." Brendan murmured, turning his face away. Still the same Brendan, shying away from vulnerability.

"Hey." Ste touched the small of his back. "This is nice, init? Just you and me."

Brendan smiled a rare, nostalgic smile. "Don't wanna shut ye up this time."

"Shame." Ste grinned, feeling mischievous.

"I thought ye were tired." Brendan quirked an eyebrow.

"Maybe I am." Ste said, sitting up and climbing into Brendan's lap, thighs either side of him. "Or maybe not."

"I'm hoping not." Brendan murmured, wrapping a hand around the back of Ste's neck and drawing him close.

Ste ground his hips into Brendan's crotch, hands tight in his hair. He was desperate already, his tiredness momentarily forgotten. Brendan's hands were splayed against his waist, fingers digging into the skin.

"Ye perked up fast." Brendan muttered, lips attached to his neck.

"What can I say? You bring out the worst in me." Ste threw his head back, spine curling with him. Brendan held him steady, eyes ghosting over Ste's body like a starved man.

"Jesus, Steven. I could snap ye in half."

Ste laughed, propelling himself forwards into Brendan's open embrace. "Is that a complaint?" He whispered against his ear, biting lightly on his earlobe.

"Like hell it is." Brendan growled, pushing Ste flat out on the bed.

Ste grinned at him, hands reaching for his trousers. Brendan touched his wrist gently, guiding his hand to slip beneath the waistband of his trousers.

"Like that is it?" Ste asked, feeling his own hand close around his cock.

"Indulge me." Brendan practically purred.

"You're gonna regret saying that." Ste answered delightedly. He was feeling giddy with arousal and happiness; just knowing that Brendan was here was driving him close to the edge of sanity. He couldn't believe how much of an effect the older man still had on him even after all those years apart. Ste wasn't sure he was ready to let him see just how much he affected him, not yet. Instead he pulled his hand free of his boxers, nudging Brendan's hand away from his wrist.

"Trust me." He said, eyes locked on Brendan's.

Brendan nodded slowly, shuffling back along the bed.

Ste pulled his trousers off, tossing them across the room. He slipped his shirt over his head, hardly caring how ruffled his hair had become. Brendan stared at him soberly, watching him laid naked and bare before him.

Ste slid his fingertips down his chest, stroking the few strands of hair there. He brushed a nipple on the way down, causing Brendan to wince and curse under his breath. He played with the hair on his stomach, wetting it with the moisture from his mouth. Brendan's eyes barely left his face, despite the show Ste was putting on for him from the neck down.

He offered his hand towards Brendan, shuddering a little as Brendan took three fingers eagerly into his open mouth, making obscene noises as he coated them with saliva. Ste brushed his bottom lip as he removed them, tantalisingly slow. He drew a finger slowly down the length of his cock, his other hand rotating his balls in his palm to draw Brendan's attention downwards.

He pressed the tip of one finger against his opening, feeling the puckered entrance open the barest amount to accommodate the invasion. The tip went in easily enough along with the remainder of the digit. Ste turned the finger slowly inside of him, gaining leverage where he needed it.

He began to move slowly inside and out, the suction of the movement making the most delicious sound imaginable. Brendan's eyes were fixated on the area, his own cock straining against his trousers.

"Touch yourself." Ste groaned, surreptitiously entering another finger, feeling the hot press of friction coiling inside of him.

Brendan blinked, hesitating as he contemplated taking the order. He still wasn't the type to relinquish control, for reasons Ste had been considering since that day in the club when-

"Steven." Brendan interrupted his thoughts, freeing himself of his trousers and boxers, hand closing tightly around his flushed cock.

Ste nodded the barest amount, his final finger circling the edge of his hole, ready to slip inside.

"Can I touch?" Brendan breathed, voice noticeably strained.

It was so unlike Brendan to be asking such things that Ste lost himself for a moment. He recovered quickly, shaking his head.

"Not yet."

Brendan groaned low under his breath, grasping his cock tighter in his hand as though in protest.

Ste pressed the third finger inside, the longest one. It touched the spot inside with deadly accuracy. Ste had had a lot of practice in Brendan's absence.

Brendan huffed out a breath, sweat gleaming on his forehead at the sight of Ste carving himself open for him.

It became increasingly difficult for Ste to deny himself the pleasure of Brendan's touch any longer. Indicating that he prepare himself, Ste, fingers still pressed inside, slid onto Brendan's lap once more. His thighs clamped down around him as he slowly lowered himself onto Brendan's cock.

Brendan hissed out a breath, holding Ste tightly against him as they both adjusted to the position. Ste made his first movement, legs shaking with the effort. Brendan held him steady as he began to slowly slide along his cock.

It was impossible to keep the thrusts measured and eventually Ste was moving erratically on top of him, head thrown back in ecstasy. He felt a scream rising in his throat and lunged forwards, attaching his mouth to Brendan's shoulder and biting hard to muffle the sound. Brendan cried out himself, raw and primal, against the skin at Ste's neck.

They were at the peak of arousal, gyrating together like they had never been apart, as though their skin was moulded together. Ste felt the rising, overwhelming sensation building inside of him before it hit him full force, Brendan grasping his cock in his hand and not relenting in his heavy strokes as Ste came all over their stomachs.

Ste only had a second to recover until Brendan shifted their positions, laying Ste out on his back once more and pounding into him relentlessly. His grip was tight on his knees, body pulsing in time to each thrust. Ste watched him in intense fascination until Brendan too climaxed with a long groan of pleasure.

Brendan, still holding onto Ste's knees, gave him a wolfish grin. Ste reached for him, feeling Brendan slot into his arms as easily as though they were built to be together. He wrapped his legs tightly around Brendan, pulling him even closer.

"Okay?" Brendan breathed, smoothing his hand across Ste's sweaty hair.

Ste nodded against him, nose buried somewhere in Brendan's hairy chest. He inhaled deeply, taking in Brendan's musky scent and the smell of sex.

They remained in silence for an immeasurable amount of time, simply enjoying the feel of each other's bodies, the familiarity they had craved for the past three and a half years.

"We should go outside." Ste croaked out eventually. "See the stars."

"Why?" Brendan asked, nuzzling the side of his face. "I can see stars here."

"Yeah?" Ste smiled, hand tentatively reaching for Brendan's face.

"Most definitely." Brendan replied, voice barely a whisper.

"Brendan." Ste began carefully, hating to break the spell of the moment but needing to ask the question burning in his gut.

"What is it, Steven?" Brendan brushed his cheek with his fingertips, gaze open and wondering.

"Are we… back together?" It felt silly to ask, considering what they had just done but Ste needed to know for sure.

"Is that what ye want, Steven?" Brendan asked cautiously.

"Yes." Ste replied, slight tremor to his voice. "Is it what you want?"

"Steven," Brendan took his face in his hands, forcing them to lock eyes. "It doesn't matter what I want."

Ste laughed incredulously. "But you've been in prison, Bren! You deserve a say."

"I don't know." Brendan said carefully. Ste deflated in his grip, chest tightening uncomfortably. "I don't mean that." Brendan added quickly, stroking his thumb across Ste's cheek.

"Then what do you mean?"

Brendan sighed, releasing Ste and gazing at the bedcovers like they were the most fascinating object in the room.

"Ye deserve better than me, Steven."

"What are you talking about?" Ste asked exasperatedly.

"I'm damaged goods." Brendan began, voice barely a rumble. He continued before Ste could object. "Not just that. Everything else too. I was in prison, Steven. Not for something I actually did but I'm hardly innocent, am I?"

"None died who didn't deserve to die." Ste repeated numbly. He'd repeated the same mantra almost every night since.

"That's not the point." Brendan sighed heavily. "We can't forget what happened before… ye know…" Brendan's fists balled the duvet. "When I hit ye again."

"Brendan-"

"Don't, Steven. Don't try and make sense out of it."

"It was a long time ago." Ste said quietly.

"Not really though. We've been apart since, it might as well be the day after."

"That's stupid. You've changed since then."

"I thought I had before." Brendan said, now looking at Ste sadly.

"Brendan…" Ste faltered, hardly knowing what to say.

"I should go." Brendan said heavily.

Something sparked inside of Ste. He'd almost forgotten that part of himself; somewhere down the line when his dad had arrived he had numbed its existence but now it tore out of him relentlessly.

"No!" He grabbed Brendan around the middle, flinging him onto the bed. Brendan was much bigger and stronger than him but he had been taken by surprise.

"Steven!" He protested, attempting to wrestle free. "What the fuck are ye doing?!"

"I _love _you. You are not leaving me again." Ste gritted his teeth, willing himself not to cry. "You're a fucking arsehole, Brendan Brady. But you're _my _arsehole. You ain't walking out on me, okay?"

Brendan stared at him, stunned beyond belief. Eventually he began to smile, drawing Ste against him, hands brushing across his scalp soothingly.

"Alright." He said softly. "I'm not leaving ye."

"How could you even try? After everything?" Ste was still angry. His hands gripped the covers so tightly that his fingers cracked under the pressure.

Brendan firmly untangled them, bringing the palm up to his lips. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He murmured softly.

"Fuck you, Brendan. I fucking hate you."

"No, ye don't." Brendan laughed, but Ste could hear the sob in his voice. "Ye love me, ye said."

"And you love me so you're not going anywhere. Don't ever do that again, you hear me?" Ste growled, giving Brendan his best glare.

Brendan nodded, mock sober. "I do love ye, even more so now." He brought their lips together for a hard kiss.

"Glad we've settled that one." Ste nodded, flopping next to Brendan on the bed and tangling their legs together. "Can we go to sleep now? I'm knackered."

"That's me told." Brendan muttered, but he was still smiling. "When did ye get so…?" Brendan trailed off, wonderment colouring his voice.

"Like you? I dunno." Ste shrugged, laying his head against Brendan's chest. "I swear though if you aren't here by morning I'm gonna track you down and-"

"I think I got the message." Brendan laughed, kissing the top of Ste's head. "Staying put."

"Only if you really want to though, right." Ste grumbled. "Don't stay on my account."

"Something really does need to shut ye up." Brendan kissed him again, lingering this time. "Go to sleep, I'll be here in the morning."

"Okay." Ste agreed, still cautious.

"Jesus, Steven. Trust me, yeah?"

Ste relaxed then, his features smoothing out. "I do. This is our fresh start, okay? Nothing's gonna come between us again."

Brendan groaned, rubbing his temple. "Don't fucking jinx it."

"Sorry." Ste said sheepishly. They grinned at each other; for the first time in a long while feeling untouchable.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Sam stared at his watch, foot tapping impatiently on the floor. It was eight o'clock in the morning and Steven hadn't been home all night. It wasn't as though his whereabouts was unknown; Sam knew very well where he'd spent the night.

He had gone to Brendan's at first, after leaving his date's place. Arriving home later than expected, he had worried himself silly thinking that Steven would be waiting for him. He wasn't. After receiving no answer at Brendan's he had hesitated outside Mitzeee's place. He didn't want to disturb her and Phoenix, especially this late. He couldn't justify to Steven his concerns either. He'd come back to the flat, hoping that Steven would return at some point as promised. Sam had woken up in the morning face first into the sofa, Steven's bed not slept in.

He left him a voicemail message once he'd woken up. Nothing too demanding, just a little probing to find out when exactly he would be home. Sam longed for the days when it had been just the two of them. It had been a mistake sending Steven to work at the club, and it had been a mistake allowing Brendan back into his life.

Sam wasn't quite at the stage of drastic measures yet but it was a close thing. He had spent well over twenty years trying to be a father and now after finally getting that chance it was getting swept out from under him by yet another male figure in Steven's life; once again a thug.

When the front door went Sam sprung to his feet, smoothing down his clothes. Luckily he'd had the sense to change. He didn't want Steven knowing he'd slept in his clothes from yesterday.

"Hey, Dad." Steven greeted him with a bright smile.

"Where have you been, son?" Sam asked, attempting to keep his voice neutral.

Steven blushed. "I fell asleep at Mitzeee's. We ended up staying the night."

"We?" Sam asked, eyebrows rising.

"Yeah, me and Brendan." Steven answered awkwardly.

"He let you have the bed of course." Sam said briskly, dreading the answer.

Steven averted his eyes, laying his keys down on the kitchen counter. "Um, not exactly. Mitzeee has a double in the guest room."

"I see." Sam said tightly.

"Don't be weird, Dad." Steven laughed nervously.

"Of course." Sam answered breezily, stepping towards him. "Have you had breakfast?"

"No, err I wanted to get back actually." Steven was acting strange. He darted from one foot to the other, avoiding Sam's gaze.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, course not." Steven swept past him to his bedroom. Sam followed without hesitation.

"Got any plans for the day?" Sam asked brightly, leaning against the doorframe.

"Sort of." Steven said, his back to him. He slipped his shirt over his head.

"What happened?" Sam asked worriedly, noticing the fading finger marks on Steven's waist.

"Oh." Steven turned, examining himself with difficulty. "Dunno."

"You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" Sam asked carefully.

"Course I would!" Steven replied, a little too easily. He slipped past Sam towards the bathroom. "Just gotta take a shower."

The door was closed abruptly in Sam's face. He thought that he'd avoided the troubled teenage years but this was something else entirely. Steven was definitely hiding something and Sam needed to find out what.

Xxx

Brendan swept through the village, coffee in one hand, bagel in his mouth. Mitzeee was beside him, jogging to keep up with him.

"Where are we going?" She asked, almost out of breath.

"Something's wrong with Steven." Brendan said tightly.

"What?" Mitzeee grabbed his arm, slowing him to a stop. "Is he in trouble?"

"I don't know."

"Then what-"

"He left in a hurry this morning." Brendan said quickly, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. "Last night was… momentous. But he just left straight away, didn't even want to stay for breakfast." Brendan took a large bite out of the bagel, crumbs flying everywhere.

"Perhaps he wanted to get back to Sam?" Mitzeee suggested.

Brendan turned his gaze to her, face as stiff as though it had been carved out of stone.

"I'm only saying!" Mitzeee said quickly, holding up her hands.

"He wouldn't just leave like that though." Brendan muttered, a million conflicting thoughts running through his mind.

"Nothing happened last night to… I don't know, worry him?"

Brendan shrugged, non-committal. "We had a good talk."

"Okay…" Mitzeee said slowly, seemingly not wanting to pry further. "Did he get a phone call or something?"

"Yes." Brendan said suddenly, remembering. "He did."

"Maybe it was Sam." Mitzeee said cautiously, gauging Brendan's reaction.

"What was Sam?"

Mitzeee jumped visibly but Brendan didn't. He looked Samuel over coolly.

"Talking about ye, not to ye."

"Brendan." Mitzeee chastised. "We were just wondering where Ste was." She directed to Samuel. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"He isn't with you?"

"Does it look like it?" Brendan smarted back, but now his palms were beginning to itch with anxiety.

"He said he had somewhere to be, left about an hour ago."

"He didn't say where?" Brendan asked urgently.

"No." Samuel said slowly. "I didn't want to pry."

"Didn't want to pry?" Brendan growled.

"Brendan, for God's sake I'm sure he's fine." Mitzeee said in exasperation. Brendan was sure he and Samuel were wearing identical expressions of anxiety by the way she was glaring at both of them. "He's a big boy, you both need to back off a bit." She kissed Brendan on the cheek before she slipped away from them. Brendan didn't miss the flash of annoyance that passed from Samuel at their exchange. Brendan took a small amount of satisfaction in it.

"If you hear anything." Samuel nodded briefly, also taking his leave.

Brendan stared hopelessly around the village, wondering where on earth Steven had gone. He glanced over at the deli, spotting Douglas carrying the specials board outside. He walked in his direction, purposeful and confident. Douglas rolled his eyes when he approached.

"Brendan." He said, nodding.

"Ye seen Steven?" Brendan asked, getting straight to the point.

"No." Douglas said, crossing his arms. "Lost him already, have you?"

Brendan sighed, stepping closer. "No time for games, Dougie boy."

"Neither have I. In case you hadn't noticed I have a business to run."

Brendan glanced behind him in disinterest. "I see that."

"Look," Douglas began, lowering his voice. "I'm sure he's fine. He's always disappearing these days."

"What?"

Douglas gave him a hard look. "He likes his own company, that's for sure."

Brendan scoffed. "Just because he isn't licking yer shoes, Dougie doesn't mean he likes being alone."

"What are you on about now?" Douglas asked in exasperation.

"You." Brendan said quietly, leaning closer and speaking directly into Douglas' ear. "Ye still can't deal with the fact he chose me, can ye?"

"Don't be soft." Douglas snorted. "Yeah, I loved him but I'm well past all that. It's you who can't forget about the past."

"If ye know where he is-"

"I don't! And I don't care." Douglas stepped away from him, lips pressed firmly together. "Get a grip, Brendan."

"Is everything okay, Mr Carter?" A timid voice asked from behind them. Brendan recognised the young lad he had met his first day back in the village.

"It's fine, Rory." Douglas said shortly. "And I told you to call me Doug."

"Sorry." Rory blushed. He looked no older than twenty, dark-haired and slight. Brendan barely registered him but Douglas blocked him from view imperceptibly.

"Anything else?" Douglas asked briskly.

"No." Brendan said, realising that arguing with him was futile and he still had to find Steven.

Brendan walked in the direction of the club absently until he realised it wasn't his anymore and he had no business using it as a sanctuary. He went home instead, feeling just as lost in the emptiness of the place. There was still furniture to be replaced, belongings to unpack. He hadn't even contacted Cheryl to let her know he was out of prison. He wasn't quite ready for that conversation yet.

His bedroom still at least had the semblance of familiarity. Sometimes he would forget that he lived here alone now. He half expected to hear Cheryl stomping around upstairs like she was prone to do, tottering in heels and inevitably stumbling in them first thing in the morning.

Instead he laid his head down on his pillow and became swallowed up by silence. He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew, someone was shaking him gently by the shoulders.

"Bren?" Steven was beside him, warm and reassuring.

Brendan rolled onto his side, pulling Steven against him and groaning.

"What's wrong?" Steven asked in concern, nose grazing Brendan's face as he kissed him lightly.

"Lost ye." Brendan murmured, still half asleep.

"No you haven't." Steven said, misunderstanding his words.

"I mean, ye were gone." Brendan said, opening his eyes to peer at him. "Where did ye go?"

Steven looked guilty, hardly able to look him in the eye. "If I ask you to trust me, can you do that?"

"Steven." Brendan pressed, raising himself from the pillow.

"I can't tell you just yet." Steven said carefully. "But it's nothing bad, okay?"

"That doesn't exactly reassure me." Brendan replied guardedly.

Steven laughed, curling himself around Brendan. "You just don't like being left in the dark."

Brendan brushed his lips over his hair. "No, not particularly."

"Shit." Steven looked up, eyes wide and apologetic. "I didn't mean-"

"Steven," Brendan muttered. "Ye don't have to freak out every time ye say something slightly ambiguous about… that."

"I don't know how to be." Steven admitted, as though the thought pained him deeply.

"Ye don't have to be anything, this is on me."

"No it isn't." Steven said stubbornly.

"Steven-"

"No. We deal together, yeah? That's what it's all about, init?"

"Hmm." Brendan replied thoughtfully. He pulled Steven close again, hoping to soothe his troubled thoughts away. "How did ye get in here anyway?" Brendan asked, suddenly realising Steven's presence in his home.

Steven laughed against him. "You idiot, the door was unlocked. Anyone could get in."

"Besides yer Da, I don't think I have anyone to worry about anymore."

Steven looked up sharply at that. "What do you mean besides my dad?"

Brendan froze, cursing himself for his thoughtless words. "Nothing, Steven. Forget it."

"No, tell me." Steven sat up in the bed, crossing his legs defiantly and pulling his body out of Brendan's reach. He knew how crazy that would drive Brendan, especially after being without him for so long.

Brendan sighed, knowing that lying to him would be pointless. "I don't think he likes having me around." He said truthfully, staring into Steven's face for a reaction.

"Why would he give you a job then?" Steven frowned.

"Exactly." Brendan said, willing Steven to understand.

"You're not making sense."

Brendan sat up with him, attempting to shuffle closer. Steven pulled himself further out of reach, staring at Brendan in consternation.

Brendan felt his nerves begin to fray once more without Steven's reassuring warmth nearby.

"I don't trust him." Brendan blurted out, deciding that brutal honesty was the only way forward.

"Why not?" Steven frowned deeper, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I think he… locked ye in the cellar." Brendan winced at how ridiculous those words sounded. Steven obviously thought so too; his lips began to quirk into a smile.

"Seriously?"

"I'm not lying, Steven. He admitted it to me."

Steven's smile faded then, uncertain. "Why would he do that?"

"So he could talk to me without yer interference."

"That's stupid though." Steven said, shaking his head. "He wouldn't do that."

Brendan felt a sense of dread settle around him. His mind shot back to three and a half years ago and Kevin's accusations alongside Steven's doubts. Steven must have read the hurt on his face because he softened, taking hold of one of Brendan's hands.

"I'll ask him though, of course I will. I do believe you, but maybe…" Steven trailed off, unsure. Brendan relaxed a little. Steven wasn't doubting him, he was clinging to his father's goodness, his trustworthiness. Brendan remembered that feeling, distant and obscure as it was to him.

Brendan pulled him towards him by the hand, turning Steven in his arms so that he settled back against Brendan. He wrapped his arms around his waist, chin resting on Steven's head.

"It's so quiet in here." Steven said thoughtfully.

Brendan had to smile; it was never quiet with Steven here.

"Lack of Cheryl." He replied, smoothing his hand up Steven's bare arm.

"Have you spoken to her yet?" Steven asked, making himself more comfortable in Brendan's embrace.

"No." Brendan said slowly. "I'm not sure I can just yet."

Steven nodded in apparent understanding. "What about your boys?"

"God, no." Brendan shook his head. "I don't even know what Eileen told them exactly. They probably hate me."

"You didn't get to speak to them?" Steven asked, turning in his arms.

"I thought a clean break would be best, they deserve better."

"Like me?" Steven asked, gaze sad.

"Ye all deserve better than me, Steven."

"Yeah but that's our choice." Steven said firmly.

Brendan was about to argue until he felt something vibrate against him.

"Oh, that's me." Steven said, squirming.

"Ye vibrate now? How long was I gone for?"

Steven gave him a playful nudge, answering his phone. "Hello? Oh. Yep." Steven glanced at Brendan warily. "I'm on my way now, don't go anywhere." Steven frowned. "Yeah, yeah okay." He smiled a little. "Be there soon."

Brendan stared at him, barely able to contain the million questions he wanted to ask.

"I have to go." Steven said quickly, attempting to pull himself out of Brendan's arms. Brendan held him firmly. "Bren!"

"Who was that?"

"I have to-"

"Tell me."

"I told ya to trust me!"

Brendan hesitated, grip slackening. Steven sighed, sensing the uncertainty in him.

"Come to mine later, about an hour from now. I promise I'll be there."

Brendan released his grip reluctantly. "Promise?" Brendan repeated.

Steven held his face in his hands, giving him a quick kiss. "You have my word."

Brendan didn't hold much weight to a man and his word, but it was Steven and therefore the same rules didn't apply.

"Alright." He agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "Please don't be long." When had he become so reliant on the boy for his well-being? Stupid question; Brendan couldn't remember a time when it hadn't been that way.

"You'll barely notice I'm gone!" Steven said cheerfully as he jumped from the bed quickly as though worried Brendan would change his mind.

"We'll see about that." Brendan murmured to himself, watching as Steven sped out of the room.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

"Hello?" Ste called out as he walked through his front door. "You better be here."

"Where else would I go?" A voice replied, appearing from the front room.

"Declan Brady." Ste sighed, grinning widely at the teenager. "I still can't believe you're here."

"Does dad know?" Declan asked. Ste was still getting used to how deep his voice had gotten. He towered over Ste now in height and there was a light spattering of stubble across his jaw.

"No, you told me not to."

"Still." Declan said, shrugging. "It's you and dad, init?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ste asked defensively, hanging up his jacket.

Declan rolled his eyes, smiling. "Nothing bad, chill."

Ste sighed, moving towards the kitchen. "You eaten anything?"

"Only something on the plane." Declan said, eyeing Ste's cupboard with interest.

"You'll be hungry then." Ste said, taking a frying pan out and layering it with cooking oil. "Egg and chips do ya?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Declan grinned, rubbing his stomach for effect.

"You still a veggie?" Ste asked, cracking some eggs open in a mug.

"Sort of." Declan replied, leaning against the counter top. "I might turn vegan you know."

Ste stared at him blankly. "What am I making these for then?" He asked, annoyed. Declan laughed loudly at him.

"I'm kidding! Jesus."

Ste blinked, taken aback by how familiar he sounded when he spoke like that.

"What?" Declan asked.

"Nothing. Sit down and help yourself to a drink or something."

"Can I have a beer?"

"No!" Ste said indignantly. "Course you can't have a beer!"

"I'm practically an adult now, Ste. Mum lets me."

"Yeah, sure she does." Ste rolled his eyes. "I don't want your first meeting with your dad happening with alcohol on ya breath. Imagine what he'd think?"

Declan lost some of his boyishness at Ste's words. "He'll be glad to see me though, right?"

"Course he will." Ste murmured. "Be a bit of a shock but…"

"Why isn't he living here anyway?" Declan asked, glancing around the flat. His eyes roamed over a pair of Sam's trousers left on the drying rack. "You got another bloke, Ste?"

"What? Wind ya neck in. It's me dads."

"Your dad?" Declan frowned. "He lives with you? Bit weird init?"

"Why?" Ste asked defensively.

"You're what, thirty or something?"

"Oi! I'm in my twenties, me!"

"Yeah, whatever. Still though, bit sad." Declan lowered his voice for the end of his sentence, grinning cheekily at Ste.

"Do you want to eat or not?" Ste countered, waving a spatula in his direction. "You're as bad as your dad."

"Well, he does like his food." Declan agreed, grabbing a coke from the fridge instead. "Do your kids still live here?"

"Full of questions, you." Ste sighed. "But no, Amy's got them."

"Bit harsh." Declan said, cocking his head to the side. "They're your kids too."

"Don't even go there." Ste replied. "Amy's not been exactly… easy these past few years."

"She's never seemed easy." Declan said with a sly grin.

"That's the mother of my kids you're talking about!" Ste chastised him. "I'll be eating these in a minute."

"Aw no, don't." Declan sat back down, putting on his best innocent expression. "When's dad coming?"

"I said an hour." Ste said, growing nervous at the thought. "Gonna be dead weird, you two meeting after all this time."

"Tell me about it, I have a tonne of questions."

Ste paused then, wary. "Don't push him too far, Deccy. He's still a bit…" Ste flailed with his hands, searching for the appropriate phrase. "Edgy." He settled with. It didn't seem adequate to explain Brendan's mood.

"But he's got you, right? So he's okay?"

Ste smiled then, loading his eggs onto a plate. "You trying to flatter me?"

"Ew get lost, I don't swing that way!"

"Declan!" Ste reprimanded him. "Here, I only had micro chips."

"Suits me." Declan said, tucking into his food the minute the plate hit the table. "This is good, better than mum's."

"Oh yeah?" Ste smiled smugly. "She'd hate you saying that."

"Tell me about it. She hates you."

"Charming." Ste muttered, sitting opposite Declan. "Listen, Brendan's gonna want to know what she's told you."

Declan frowned. "You know what she's told me."

"I know I do but he doesn't. For all he knows you all think he's a murderer." Ste swallowed, neglecting to mention how true that was, except in Seamus' case.

"He wouldn't have killed granddad. We know that. I never believed he could."

Ste looked at him carefully. "Did you see a lot of your granddad?"

Declan chewed thoughtfully. "Not really. Maybe at special occasions with the rest of the family. Paddy got quite taken with him one Christmas, wanted to go round his for New Years for the night. Dad flipped out, never seen him so angry." Declan paused, expression darkening. "I never liked him much to be honest. He made dad dead weird, more than usual."

Ste bowed his head, chest tightening at Declan's words. It seemed all the more real now that Declan was practically an adult and could look back on these events with more clarity and understanding than he would have before.

"I didn't like him either." Ste said, grinding his teeth together.

"That makes two of us then." Declan agreed. "Three if you count dad."

"And Cheryl." Ste added, then wished he hadn't.

"Auntie Cheryl? But she never shut up about him."

"Yeah, well… things change." Ste said lamely, standing up. "Come on, eat up. He'll be here soon."

Declan did as he was told, finishing within a few minutes and licking his plate clean.

"I could get used to this." He groaned in satisfaction, patting his stomach.

"You planning on staying then?"

"For a bit, yeah. Mum's not keen but what can she do about it?"

"She's still your mum." Ste said.

"Yeah but do you listen to yours?" Declan countered. He took Ste's silence as confirmation.

There was a sudden knock at the front door, making both of them jump.

"You ready for this?" Ste turned to the lad, lips pressed in a firm line.

"I think so." Declan said, standing and wiping his mouth. "Let him in."

Ste went to the door, plastering a smile onto his face to reassure Brendan. When he opened the door to him it didn't have the desired effect.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, swooping inside. Ste closed the door after him, sighing heavily.

"Nothing's wrong. Look, we have a guest…" Ste began, watching as Declan came into view, smiling sheepishly at his dad. Gone was the cocky demeanour he'd worn with Ste moments before; now he could have been a young lad of fourteen all over again.

"Deccy?" Brendan asked in disbelief.

"Hiya, Dad." Declan replied, scuffing his shoes against the carpet. "Miss me?"

Brendan chuffed out a laugh, moving forwards as though to embrace him but then seemingly thinking better of it. Declan sensed his hesitation and made the first move, striding forwards with purpose and throwing himself into his dad's arms.

"I missed you." Declan said, muffled against Brendan's shoulder.

Brendan clung to his son; hand wrapped protectively around the back of his head. "Me too, Deccy. Ye have no idea how much." Eventually they pulled away from each other, Brendan holding him at arm's length. "What ye doing here, hm? Does yer ma know you're here?"

"Yeah, course." Declan said dismissively. "Don't matter anyway, I'm a man now."

"Is that right?" Brendan smiled in affection and amusement.

"Yeah." Declan shrugged away from him, once more slipping into the typical teenage habit. "Ste wouldn't let me have a beer though."

"Too right!" Ste piped up, stepping closer.

Brendan kept smiling, looking from Ste to Declan. "Ye kept this one quiet."

Ste shrugged apologetically. "Only got the call this morning. This one wanted me to meet him at the airport. Told me to come alone and not tell anyone. Wanted it to be a surprise." Ste rolled his eyes. "You don't think he's had enough surprises, eh?"

"One more won't hurt." Declan grinned.

Brendan's smile didn't leave his face as they talked, doing the usual catch-up. Eileen was fine; now married to Michael. Paddy was doing well in school and was starting to notice the girls. Declan didn't have a girlfriend anymore; he was playing the field.

"That's my boy." Brendan ruffled his hair, lighter than Ste had seen him since he returned from prison.

"Oi, you got me." Ste huffed, crossing his arms.

"And I'm ever so grateful." Brendan flashed him a brilliant smile which made Ste a little weak at the knees. He tried not to let it show but infuriatingly Brendan noticed and slipped him a wink.

"How long you staying for, Deccy?" Ste asked.

"Dunno really, for as long as you'll have me?"

"I'm back at the old place." Brendan said quickly. "That okay with ye?"

"Course." Declan shrugged. "Is Ste gonna be there too?"

Brendan glanced at Ste, hesitating.

"Well, you only have to ask." Ste replied, smile beginning to form on his lips.

"Ye wanna? Just for a few days?" Brendan seemed impossibly hopeful, like all his Christmases had come at once.

"If you don't mind, you two might wanna catch up."

"We can do that with you there as well." Declan pointed out.

Brendan looked completely stunned, staring between the two of them in wonder.

"What?" They asked in unison.

"I just can't believe ye are both here." Brendan said wonderingly. Ste returned the look of adoration while Declan stared at the wall, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Shut up." He mumbled, but he was still smiling.

Xxx

Brendan took Declan home while Steven went to find his dad to let him know where he'd be staying for the next few days.

"That'll go down well." Brendan had murmured. Thankfully Steven hadn't heard him but Declan did.

"You don't like his dad then?" Declan asked him now as they walked through the village, Brendan carrying Declan's rucksack over his shoulder.

"Well…" Brendan began evasively.

"No then." Declan answered for him. "What's wrong with him? He some kinda control freak?"

"Spot on, Deccy." Brendan replied, mounting the steps. "When did ye get so perceptive anyway?"

Declan shrugged. "Just the vibe I got from Ste. Plus I had a little root through his dad's things while he was gone and-"

"Declan!" Brendan said in disbelief. "Ye can't do that."

"Oh come on. You'd have done the same!" Declan rolled his eyes. "Besides, I thought he was some new bloke. I wanted to get rid for ya."

"That's… sweet." Brendan said, oddly touched. "What did ye find then?"

"Nothing too exciting at first; sock drawer was all ordered in colour and size. Proper weird. But then I found this underneath." Declan passed him a few pieces of paper.

"He'll notice this is missing." Brendan said, but he couldn't help being glad for Declan's discovery. "What are they?"

"Well that's the thing; they're notes… on you." Declan stared at him carefully.

"Me?" Brendan frowned, having a quick rifle through. "Villagers say volatile temper, incidents of violence, drug dealing…" Brendan trailed off, eyes skimming the rest. "This is ridiculous."

"But true." Declan pointed out, giving a little nervous laugh. "Listen, Dad. I know you won't want to talk about it but I just wanted to say that I never believed you did it, neither did mum, or Paddy." Declan glanced at the ground awkwardly.

"I appreciate that." Brendan said quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't let ye visit, I know ye tried to."

"I get it." Declan said gruffly. "You didn't want me involved in all that, Ste said."

"He did?" Brendan said in some surprise, opening the front door.

"We talked now and again, well, texted mostly." Declan walked in before him. "He was pretty cut up you know."

"I know." Brendan said soberly, closing the door after them. "I hope I can make it up to him somehow."

"I think you are already." Declan said, smiling a little. "Keep an eye on this dad of his though."

"Oh trust me, I am."

"Good." Declan nodded, flinging himself onto the sofa. "You got anything to eat? I'm hungry again."

Brendan laughed. "Me too. I'll see what we've got in." He went to the kitchen, opening a few cupboards. "Ye know, nothing's gonna be as good as what Steven makes. We should wait for him."

"Let's just go find him, meet this dad of his." Declan said, swinging himself upright.

Brendan grinned, amazed at the confidence in his boy. The conversation between them was easy, it felt right. Perhaps Brendan was always going to be better at this when he was older, for reasons he didn't like to think about.

"Sure, put yer stuff upstairs and we'll go."

"Ace." Declan bounded up the stairs. It was like music to Brendan's ears, hearing noise again in the place. He hoped that Declan would stay a while. They had a lot of catching up to do.

Xxx

Steven was sitting by the bar when they arrived. He jumped out of his seat to greet them like an overexcited puppy.

"What are you doing here?" He asked happily, giving Brendan a sloppy kiss. Brendan batted him away. Declan was preoccupied however, glancing around the club in disdain.

"What on earth have they done to this place?" He said, nose wrinkling.

"Is there a problem?" Samuel appeared from the office, looking none too pleased about their arrival.

"You the dad?" Declan held out a hand. "Declan Brady, at your service. Or not."

Samuel shook his hand slowly, eyeing him. "Brendan's son I take it?"

"The one and… oh no, I have a brother too." Declan winked, leaning casually against the bar. "Nice place, this."

"Quite." Samuel said coolly, fixing his gaze on Steven now. "You had something to tell me?"

"Oh right, yeah. I said I'd stay with Bren and Deccy for a few days, while he's here and that."

"I see." Samuel said, face giving nothing away.

"That alright?" Steven asked warily. Declan opened his mouth as though to say something but Brendan fixed him with a stern look before the words left him.

"Yes, Steven. No need to ask permission." Samuel smiled then. "We should have dinner tonight while these two catch up."

"Oh I was kinda hoping Ste would have dinner with us." Declan piped up. He wore a look of regret but Brendan could tell he was anything but regretful.

Steven stared between them, looking torn.

"It's alright, we can do it another night." Samuel said, patting Steven on the shoulder. Another look crossed his face that Brendan hadn't seen before. He looked sad. That was more disturbing to Brendan than anything else he'd witnessed from him. He didn't like to think of Samuel as human, or indeed a rightful member of Steven's life.

"Thanks, Dad." Steven said quietly, giving him a brief hug. "I'll be in for my shift tomorrow, Bren too." He nodded at Brendan. "Deccy can help out a bit can't he? Wash up or something?"

"Hey." Declan frowned. "I'm not a kid you know."

"Course not." Brendan grinned at him, raising his eyebrows.

"Shut up, Dad." Declan gave him an easy nudge. Brendan couldn't believe how relaxed he felt in the banter, the closeness. Samuel stared at them with another emotion: envy.

"We'd best get off then." Brendan suggested, clearing his throat. "What do ye fancy for dinner, Steven?"

"I'll cook something, one of my specialities."

"Jam sandwiches?" Brendan asked hopefully.

"Oh, I'd love a jam sandwich right now." Declan said, groaning.

"Seedless." They said in unison. Steven stared at them with as much pride as though Leah had just won a prize at school.

"I was thinking more bolognaise." Steven said, struggling to pronounce the word.

Brendan's stomach rumbled at the thought. "As long as it isn't pizza…" He groaned. Steven gave him a wide grin.

"How about a panini?"

Brendan shuddered. He had to admit, Steven sounded positively orgasmic saying the word. It was a shame they'd have to wait until later for anything of that variety. Brendan wanted to focus on Declan right now and he knew Steven felt the same.

"Ew." Declan grimaced. "I'll stick to the bolognaise. Veggie though, remember?"

"So just sauce then yeah?" Steven rolled his eyes. "I better get to Price Slice." He moved towards the stairs, Declan in tow.

"Can I have a word, Brendan?" Samuel asked. Brendan had almost forgotten he was there.

Steven glanced between them warily. It was evident he still hadn't asked about the cellar incident. Brendan might have to bring it up again but he was reluctant to do so.

"I'll meet ye downstairs." Brendan told them. Declan fixed him with a look, attempting to communicate through expression alone. Brendan waved him off, not wanting an audience for this.

Once they were alone, Samuel took a few steps towards him. "I envy you, Brendan."

"Yeah?" Brendan wasn't playing this game, it wouldn't lead anywhere good. "Was it the prison stretch that did it? It wasn't exactly a picnic ye know."

Samuel dismissed his comment, pacing beside the bar. "You're really good with Steven."

"He's not a pet." Brendan said angrily. "Or a child." The thought made him suddenly uncomfortable. "What are ye getting at?"

"It's a compliment." Samuel said, fixing him with a look. "We've both known him almost the same amount of time, but the way he responds to you… how he lights up when you enter a room, it's unnerving."

"That's us." Brendan said, words full of weight.

"I know you feel the same." Samuel said, pausing in his movements. "I don't have a problem with you, Brendan. Not as such."

"Then what?" Brendan asked, wanting him to get to the point.

"I see you and Declan and it makes me ache." Samuel said, voice breaking a little. "I know he's not a child either but I missed so much with Steven, milestones I'll never get back."

Brendan shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. "Trust me, I get that."

Samuel looked at him in surprise at how Brendan was attempting to relate. Brendan half expected him to make a scathing reply but was astonished by the small smile he received instead.

"That's reassuring." Samuel said, clasping his hands behind him. "I won't keep you, that's all I wanted to say."

"Alright." Brendan said carefully, moving towards the stairs.

"Just, one more thing." Samuel said, something in his voice making Brendan turn. "It won't work, trying to turn Steven against me, telling him about the cellar." Brendan's eyebrows shot up in surprise at his words.

"I'm just being honest with him, that's all." He said.

"I know." Samuel said, voice soft. "I explained to him why I did it, he… understood."

"Really?" Brendan was shocked by this admission; how could Steven possibly be okay with it?

"My son is very forgiving, as I'm sure you know." Samuel looked at him carefully. "I hope now that everything is out in the open we can move past petty grudges."

"If ye say so." Brendan said, eyeing him.

"I do." Samuel strode forwards, holding out a hand. "It's all for Steven's sake after all."

Brendan hesitated before taking the offered hand. "For Steven." He agreed, still guarded. He had the distinct impression that the games weren't over yet.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

"Whose room am I taking then?" Declan asked the minute they stepped through the door.

Brendan shrugged, collapsing onto the sofa. "Ah." Brendan said, realisation dawning on him. "There aren't any beds upstairs."

"Seriously?" Declan sat down beside him.

"I only just got the place back and seeing as I'm the only one who lives here…"

Declan bounced on the sofa. "I can sleep here, it's fine."

"Ye can have my bed." Brendan offered, resting his eyes for a moment.

"You and Ste will want that." Declan told him.

"Steven can sleep on here, I'll take the floor."

"Dad." Declan said firmly. "Ste will want to share the bed with you."

"Mmm." Brendan said, wondering why his chest tightened at the thought. "Still, ye are a guest and-"

"Ste's a guest too." Declan pointed out. "You should really get him to move in here. Get him away from that creepy dad of his."

"Deccy, ye can't say things like that when he arrives." Brendan told him, voice low. He didn't reveal how desperately he wanted that, but he was sure it was written all over his face by the way Declan smiled at him.

"I know, I know." Declan stretched out, wincing when his back clicked into place. "But I'm right."

Brendan sighed, standing up and indicating that Declan do the same. He handed him the pillows from the sofa before pulling it out into a sofa bed.

"Clever." Declan mused. "So you had time to buy a sofa bed but not real beds?"

"Enough of the attitude, hm?" Brendan replied good-naturedly.

Declan flung himself onto the mattress, groaning as he made himself comfortable. "This is mine, it's too comfortable."

Brendan looked at him steadily for a moment before throwing a pillow at him. Declan caught it easily, sitting up and grinning at him.

"You scared of getting him alone? You telling me you haven't…" Declan trailed off, gesturing with his hands.

"Deccy!" Brendan scolded him, flushing. "We don't talk about that. Ever."

"Alright!" Declan chuckled, holding the pillow to his chest. "Still, what is it?"

Brendan sighed, perching on the arm of the sofa. "Big deal, sharing a bed again like a… couple."

"You are, aren't you?" Declan asked, frowning.

"Should we be?" Brendan countered, voice light even though he was feeling anything but.

"You mean what I saw when I was younger?" Declan asked him. Brendan winced; he'd half-hoped Declan had blocked that incident from his memory.

"Yeah, that among other things." Brendan murmured.

Declan looked thoughtful for a moment. Brendan took the opportunity to look him over properly. He was much taller than when Brendan had last seen him, and broader in the shoulders. He had the same hairstyle, same cheeky grin. He was still his little boy, but now he was more of a man. Brendan felt incredibly proud but also sad that he had missed so much of it. Declan turned back to him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Things are different now though, aren't they?"

"Of course." Brendan said firmly. "I want to make it right."

"And you will." Declan said softly. "I believe in you, and so does Ste."

"Deccy…" Brendan trailed off at a knock on the front door. He opened it swiftly, relaxing when he saw Steven.

Steven was holding a pillow under one arm and a duvet in the other. He smiled at Brendan sheepishly.

"I wasn't sure if you had anything to sleep in, or Declan." He swept past him, dumping them on one of the chairs.

"We were just talking about that." Brendan told him. He could barely disguise the tremor in his voice. Declan gave him a pointed look, urging him to address the sleeping arrangement. When Brendan didn't, he piped up himself.

"Where do you want to sleep, Ste? Bed, sofa or floor?"

"He ain't sleeping on the floor." Brendan said quietly.

"I could." Declan offered but Brendan shook his head resolutely.

Steven looked between the two of them, bewildered. "I don't get it. What's the big deal?"

"He's scared to sleep with you." Declan said, rolling his eyes.

Steven stared at Brendan for several moments before he slowly began to smile. "But we shared a bed last night."

"Yeah, well." Brendan glared at the floor. "That was different."

"How?" Steven asked incredulously.

Brendan shuffled from foot to foot. "Can we talk about this later?" He murmured.

"Alright." Steven sighed, kissing him on the cheek before finding his way to the kitchen. "Dinner might take a while so amuse yourselves."

Without further provocation, Declan grabbed the television remote, making himself comfortable.

Brendan left him to it, joining Steven in the kitchen instead. He leaned against the counter top, watching Steven as he began preparations for dinner.

"You gonna watch me the whole time?" Steven asked him after a while.

"Might do." Brendan said quietly. "The man I love cooking me a meal, doesn't get much better than that."

"Oh yeah?" Steven raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well, that too." Brendan admitted with a wry smile.

Steven looked at him, then away as though considering something.

"What?" Brendan prompted, sliding closer to him.

"What was all that about sharing a bed?" Steven raised his eyebrows as he asked.

"Oh." Brendan shuffled about awkwardly. "It's stupid."

"Tell me." Steven said firmly, abandoning his cooking temporarily.

"We've had, what, three nights together?"

"Yeah, something like that." Steven answered slowly, waiting for Brendan to get to the point.

"We haven't just gone to bed together though. Except that first night." Brendan said softly.

Steven stared at him blankly. "You've lost me."

"We normally… ye know." Brendan lowered his voice further. "But tonight with Deccy here, we'll just sleep, won't we? And that's different."

"Is it?" Steven asked, scrunching up his face.

"It'll be… normal." Brendan said the word wonderingly. "And ye two here, like a family. It's…" Brendan struggled to find the right word.

"Great?" Steven supplied for him. His expression was soft.

"Yeah." Brendan muttered, embarrassed. "More than great."

Steven sighed happily, circling his arms around Brendan's waist. "We're gonna be alright, me and you."

"Ye reckon?"

"Of course. I've never seen you so… what's the word? Bashful or something?"

Brendan nodded, leaning in to Steven's touch.

"It's dead cute."

"Don't say that." Brendan groaned.

"But it is! You're all embarrassed and blushing." Steven rubbed his nose against Brendan's cheek. "Are you feeling odd because your Declan's here?"

"Not exactly." Brendan admitted. "I'm okay with all that, I think. It's all just a bit… overwhelming, ye know?"

Steven nodded, leaning his head against Brendan's shoulder. "One day at a time." He whispered.

Brendan nodded fervently, lightening the mood somewhat by swiping a bit of sauce from the pan.

"Hey! It's not finished yet."

"Best get to it then." Brendan smirked, some of his easy charm returning.

"And you best give Declan that duvet for tonight." Steven said, giving him a wide grin.

Xxx

"Bren?" Steven asked, sitting crossed legged in front of him on the bed. They'd finished dinner hours ago and after watching some television with Declan, he'd eventually told them to 'get lost and talk' so he could get some sleep.

"Mm?" Brendan murmured, feeling exhausted himself. Steven's face was bathed in half-light, eyes shining brightly, alert and curious.

"Why does tonight feel any different from that first night you came back?"

Brendan sighed, sitting up in the bed. He'd known Steven wouldn't let it drop; he had always wanted to know Brendan's every thought, even if it wasn't something he particularly wanted to hear.

"It's hard to explain." Brendan replied carefully.

"Try." Steven answered imploringly, curling up at Brendan's feet like an over-indulged cat.

"That first night," Brendan began, searching for the right way to explain. "It didn't feel real. I had ye but… I didn't know how long it would last."

Steven frowned at him. "Why not? I didn't give you any reason to think that."

"It's not yer fault. How could I believe that after all those years ye would want me back? Not only that, but to practically pick up from where we left off?"

"Is that bad?" Steven asked, resting up on his elbow.

"No. But things have changed; I've changed, you've changed."

"Me?" Steven crawled closer to him. "In what way?"

"Not in an obvious way, except to me." Brendan said softly, resting his hand against Steven's cheek.

"I'm gonna need more than that." Steven laughed, leaning in to Brendan's hand.

"I don't wanna offend ye." Brendan chuckled, thumb smoothing over Steven's jaw.

"Is it because I'm older?"

"Course not." Brendan said sharply. "Why would it be?"

"I'm not as smooth now." Steven said self-consciously.

"Who cares?" Brendan countered. How could Steven think he was anything but beautiful to him?

"I do." Steven murmured. "What if you want to trade up or something?"

"What?" Brendan started forwards suddenly, incredulous. Steven flinched away from him, eyes wide. They stared at each other for several beats. "I wasn't gonna…" Brendan trailed off, clasping his hands together.

"I know that."

"Ye flinched."

"You made me jump."

"That's not it though, is it?" Brendan stared into his eyes then, unblinking. "Ye are scared of me."

"No." Steven said firmly. A little too firmly.

"If ye aren't, ye have forgotten how to be."

"Don't be stupid, I've never been scared of ya."

"Steven…"

"Maybe after… you know, sometimes. But not like this." Steven reached out to take his hand but Brendan drew back, uncertain. "Bren…" Steven shuffled closer to him, close enough to reach out and brush his fingertips against his chest. "Do I look scared?"

Brendan stared at him, hard. Steven looked back at him steadily, perfectly relaxed once more.

"I guess not." Brendan answered eventually.

"Then let's keep talking, okay?"

Brendan nodded, attempting to relax his own posture. It was difficult; especially with Steven this close to him. As though reading his mind, Steven resumed his position at the end of the bed, staring at Brendan and waiting for him to speak again.

"Ye seem more… fragile." Brendan said, keeping his eyes on Steven's face to make sure he wasn't upset.

Steven barely reacted; he looked as though this wasn't news to him. Brendan wasn't sure if his self awareness was a good thing or not. Surely he'd have wanted to do everything he could to not feel that way?

"It hasn't been easy." Steven said, startling Brendan. "Not just you, but the kids as well. Being alone, no one to turn to." Steven stared into the middle distance, voice flat and lifeless as though he was back in that dark place once more. "Then dad showed up and things got… better. He took care of me."

Brendan opened and shut his mouth, restraining himself from saying what he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry I put ye in that position."

"It's okay. Well, it isn't. But it's okay now." Steven smiled a little at him. "You're back, that's what matters."

"But ye don't seem sure." Brendan said, picking up on his tone. "Ye don't think I'll stay."

"How could I know something like that?" Steven argued.

"Ye don't. Ye are just used to the disappointment."

Steven lowered his gaze, speaking into the duvet as though it held all the answers.

"I think I lost a part of myself that day." He said so quietly that Brendan had to lean closer to hear him. "When you told me about your dad, everything just sort of clicked into place, you know? I suddenly understood things I hadn't before. It was terrifying. I didn't know what to do. When I came looking for you that night I wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren't answering your phone and I was scared, right. Then seeing you on that balcony, confessing everything, even Danny…" Steven swallowed thickly. "Was it me? Did you not want to be with me anymore? How could you do that, just give yourself up and leave me all alone? I must have done something wrong."

"Of course not." Brendan said gruffly, reaching forwards to take his hands. "Ye know why I did it, for Cheryl."

"It can't have just been that." Steven shook his head, releasing himself from Brendan's grip and striding across the room. "I thought for ages that you must have thought you were doing me a favour or something. Setting me free, letting me live my life."

"Because I thought I'd lost mine, I was as good as dead, Steven."

"But when you found out your sentence was shorter." Steven said, turning back to him. His eyes were shining now with unshed tears. "You could have gotten in touch, let me know you'd be back."

"But ye wouldn't have lived properly, waiting on me."

"It would have been better than what I did have." Steven said roughly. "Until dad came I had nothing."

"Good job he was around then." Brendan said, unable to disguise the bitterness in his tone.

"Yeah, it was actually. I know he's not perfect but he's my dad."

"That doesn't give him a free pass to lock ye in cellars, Steven."

"He explained all that." Steven replied, crossing his arms.

"He wants to control ye." Brendan said, rising from the bed and standing directly in front of him. "How can ye not see that?"

"And you never did that?" Steven retorted, angry now. "He's no worse than you."

"Steven." Brendan said, barely able to speak. "I don't wanna fight with ye. I get it, ye want him in yer life, he's important to ye."

"So are you." Steven replied haughtily. "But you gotta calm down, yeah? Don't treat me like I'm _fragile _otherwise how am I gonna learn not to be?"

"Has he been doing that, hm? What about yer nightmares? What does he do when they happen?"

"None of your business!" Steven raised his voice a little higher.

"Steven please, I just want to understand." Brendan begged, taking another step towards him.

"I don't wanna hear it, yeah?"

Brendan deflated at his words, the fight leaving him. "Alright." He said, stepping around the bed towards the door.

"Where you going?"

"To sleep outside." Brendan said gruffly, grabbing a pillow and bed sheet. "See ye in the morning." He shut the door behind him, trying not to wake Declan. He didn't want to alert the boy to his presence so instead he settled down just outside his room. The floor was hard and uncomfortable but he didn't care; it wasn't as though he'd be sleeping tonight.

At some point he must have dozed off because something roused him to full awareness, hitting him like a tonne of bricks. Steven was crying out from his bedroom and it didn't take a genius to work out what was going on. Brendan could have kicked himself for being so thoughtless.

He rushed into the room, closing the door shut after him. Steven was twisted around his bed covers, sweating and in obvious distress. Brendan went to the side of the bed, giving him a gentle shake.

"Steven. Wake up, Steven."

"Daddy." Steven sobbed. Brendan didn't know if he was awake or not but the very word sent a chill to his bones.

"It's me, Steven. It's Brendan." He tightened his grip, willing the boy to open his eyes. Eventually he did so, blinking in confusion and breathing hard.

"Brendan?"

"Yeah, it's me." Brendan replied, breathing out in relief.

"What happened?"

"Ye had a nightmare." Brendan told him, resting his forehead against Steven's shoulder. "Scared me." He said, laughing nervously.

"Funny, init? After what you said about my dad. Bet you think it's dead sad, me crying out for him. Sometimes he comes in and holds me, sleeps in the bed with me." Steven was biting his words out, hardly realising the effect they were having on Brendan.

He stiffened, drawing back in horror. "Steven…"

"It isn't like that." Steven said quickly, anger deflating as quickly as it had come. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Stop. Stop apologising." Brendan pushed his forehead against Steven's. "Don't ever apologise to me."

"I don't wanna fight." Steven said quietly, voice breaking around the words.

"Me neither." Brendan admitted.

"Get in to bed then." Steven said, shuffling back to give Brendan room. Brendan slid in gratefully, the soft mattress soothing the aches from sleeping on the floor. "You're such an idiot, sleeping out there." Steven said softly, tucking his head underneath Brendan's chin.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore." Brendan replied honestly. "Give ye space, look after ye, watch ye from a distance…"

"Definitely stay close." Steven said, curling his legs around Brendan's and holding him tightly in place.

"But I get it, ye wanna be yer own person again. If I'm stopping that in any way…"

"No, you aren't. You and dad though, this rivalry… it has to stop. I'll be talking to him too."

"Okay." Brendan breathed, wrapping his arms around Steven. "Whatever ye want."

"Good."

They were silent for a while; Brendan took the opportunity to hold Steven close and feel every tremor in his body. The nightmare had taken its toll and Brendan was almost certain Steven wouldn't be able to sleep again just yet.

"Steven?" He asked, somewhat croakily.

"Yeah?"

"What will help ye sleep?"

"I dunno." Steven answered, shrugging. "What did you have in mind?"

Brendan found himself smiling, pulling Steven to rest on top of him.

"You said with Declan here…" Steven began, mouth twitching into its own smile.

"If we're really quiet." Brendan said, placing a finger over Steven's already moistened lips.

"No promises." Steven said coyly, grinding his pelvis against him.

"Jesus." Brendan breathed, hands gripping his thighs. "Ye will be the death of me, Steven Hay."

Steven scrunched up his nose in distaste.

"What?" Brendan asked, wondering if he'd said the wrong thing again.

"I don't like my last name, especially now."

Brendan didn't like where this was heading. "Ye don't wanna be a Spencer?"

Steven shrugged. "Dad suggested it a while ago, I've been thinking about it."

Brendan bit his lip to prevent the words he really wanted to say from spilling out. "Yer choice, Steven."

"I'm still not sure yet." He said. "You gonna get these clothes off me or what?" He added, bringing Brendan's attention back to the task at hand.

Brendan smirked, brushing his hands up and down Steven's waist underneath his shirt.

"Take off yer clothes, Steven."

Steven raised his eyebrows, face full of recognition. "Want me to strip for ya?"

"Always." Brendan said, voice lulled with desire.

Steven did as he was told, slipping his shirt slowly off his head and pulling his boxers down around his ankles. Brendan re-positioned himself, pulling them all the way off with his teeth.

Steven grinned at him, placing himself at the head of the bed.

"Ye trying to get away, hm?" Brendan stalked towards him, eventually settling his hands either side of Steven's head.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Steven crooned, pushing his hips off the bed and rubbing himself against Brendan's groin.

Brendan closed his eyes, ducking his head to capture Steven's lips in a searing kiss. It was easy to forget his anxieties when Steven was spread out beneath him like this; open and willing for his touch. It made Brendan remember the numerous nights he spent in prison, imagining Steven's body, every crevice from memory, and pretending he was there beside him, soothing the ache in his heart and the noise in his head. Sometimes he would become so engrossed even his cock would react. It did the same now, straining in reaction to Steven's desire, itching to hit its target inside the warmth of Steven's pressed, hot body.

Steven was silent as Brendan slowly trailed his fingers down his smooth chest, circling his nipples with his tongue and playing with the soft strands of hair underneath his belly button. His lips moved further down, kissing his stomach almost reverently. Steven squirmed; he'd always been a little ticklish. Once Brendan spread his knees apart however, his gaze turned serious and intense, fixed on Brendan's own.

"Been a while since I done this." Brendan murmured, kissing down his shaft and balls, hovering outside his hole.

"Oh god." Steven breathed, evidently aware of what was to come. Brendan poked his tongue out, wetting the dark hair around, teasing where he knew Steven wanted him to touch. He arched a little off the bed, pounding his fist into the duvet. "Don't tease, not now."

Brendan made a soft, rumbling sound in his throat. "Don't tell me that. Now it's all I want to do." Steven groaned, fists tightening in the soft material, squeezing his eyes shut as Brendan's tongue darted out once more to flick against his entry, not quite touching long enough for a reaction, but getting one all the same.

"Fuck." Steven bit his lip, remembering Brendan's earlier words about keeping quiet.

"Ye gonna be good for me, Steven? Be quiet?"

Steven nodded hastily, leaning his head back and exposing his throat. Brendan reached up to graze the area he knew was incredibly sensitive to the lad before bringing his tongue out once more, this time coating the area.

Steven made soft, whimpering noises, shimmying himself further down the bed in the hope that it would make Brendan quicken his pace. It didn't.

Brendan smoothed his tongue flat against Steven's hole, spitting on it for good measure and making the spit bubble and froth enticingly. He held onto Steven's thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he kissed and licked all over, tongue poking its way inside and coaxing Steven's hole open for him.

Steven was a mess above him, overcompensating for the lack of noise by moving all over the bed, unable to restrain himself. Brendan entertained the idea of tying him up but he knew Steven would break free at the climax like he always did. That small element of knowing he could escape made it all the more special, in an odd way. Steven pretended to relinquish control to Brendan but there was still a tiny part of him that knew the truth, and relaxed as a result. Brendan was a clear dominator, but he always held back that little bit, knowing the reality of being overtaken completely, and the unpleasantness that followed.

Brendan shook his head, clearing himself of such thoughts. Steven's eyes were on him, curious and concerned. He gave him the briefest of smiles, crawling on top of his body to reach his lips, wanting Steven to taste himself on his tongue. He recoiled at first, almost as reluctant as he had been the first time Brendan had rimmed him. But once Brendan's tongue was deep in his mouth, tangling with his own, Steven soon forgot about his reservations.

Brendan kept his hands busy as they kissed, replacing where his tongue had been and widening Steven in a way his tongue wasn't capable of doing. By the time Steven was fully open to him, they were both breathing hard into each others mouths, as though giving each other life.

Brendan grabbed a condom out of the drawer, rolling it onto himself and slicking himself up with lubricant. Steven watched him with avid interest, eyes fixated on his cock, marvelling at its size and the wondrous things he knew it could do to him.

Pausing, Brendan considered their positions, not knowing how he wanted it to be this time. Steven answered his thought, pulling his legs back and up, spreading them wide and pushing his hole into Brendan's direct line of sight. His eyes were shining with mischief and desire, and Brendan couldn't resist him for a moment longer.

He pushed in the tip, wetting his lips as he felt the familiar heat pulling him inside, daring him to push all the way in and take Steven whole. He wasn't sure if Steven was ready for that though so he tilted his hips further up, cock swallowed halfway inside before he looked at Steven for confirmation. Steven gave him the briefest of nods, not quite tensing in preparation but readying himself. Brendan didn't need telling twice; he hit his mark effortlessly, shuddering as he felt the friction and the tightness of Steven's body around him.

Brendan didn't move; relishing in the feel of him, the way his skin was raised in pleasure and anticipation. Steven rocked against him slightly, drawing him in. Brendan smirked, withdrawing halfway once more before slamming back inside the whole way, feeling as Steven's thighs shook all around him. They kept up this rhythm, Steven biting on his fist to prevent the cries threatening to escape his lips.

Brendan held his knees, using them as leverage to hit his mark accurately, loving the way Steven would tense as he withdrew and widen as he took him back in again. Brendan found himself watching the show, becoming lost in the enormity of what they were doing. Steven drew him back with a gentle hand to his cheek, wanting their eyes to meet for the moment of climax that followed.

Brendan must have came with him a million times already but this time was different. It was almost a promise; a promise that this was it for them now. No more prison, no more pushing each other away with insecurities and doubt. Brendan knew it would be impossible, that men like them were filled with raging thoughts, with deep-rooted fears and expectations. But it was comforting to know there was always each other, two sides of the same coin, one and the same. United.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Ste awoke the next morning with Brendan's body half-draped across him. He smiled to himself, turning in his arms to nuzzle against Brendan's neck.

Brendan mumbled something indecipherable in his sleep, pulling Ste so tightly towards him that Ste wasn't sure how he'd escape.

He allowed Brendan to hold him for a good few minutes before he started to get twitchy, knowing that breakfast needed to be made before they all went to the club. Sensing Ste's agitation, Brendan groaned and released him slightly, allowing Ste the chance to slip out of bed and creep towards the door.

"Where ye going?" Brendan asked, always conscious of Ste's absence.

Ste turned, taking in Brendan's dishevelled appearance and how attractive he looked first thing in the morning, annoyingly so.

"Thought I'd make you breakfast in bed." Ste said coyly, leaning against the door frame.

"I should be doing that for ye." Brendan muttered, sitting up a little.

"Why?" Ste asked.

Brendan shrugged, blinking his eyes open. "Old-fashioned like that."

"You can make it tomorrow." Ste offered, opening the door. "But really I'm the chef so surely it's better if I make it anyway?"

Brendan licked his lips, moaning a little presumably at the thought of Ste's cooking. "Will ye make those mini waffles? With the sauce?"

Ste grinned at him. "I might have to go to the shop for them."

Brendan threw the cover away from him. "I'll go."

"Don't be silly, I don't mind. You go wake Declan up." Ste grabbed his trousers and a fresh shirt out of his bag. "I won't be long." He said, kissing Brendan briefly on the lips and vacating the room before Brendan could argue further.

The village was relatively quiet. Ste grabbed a basket in Price Slice and located the waffles easily enough; he hadn't made them in years. The memories had been too vivid and always associated with Brendan. He picked up a few other bits, thinking back on the state of Brendan's fridge and cupboards. Just as he was leaving the shop be bumped into Mitzeee, Phoenix resting on her hip.

"Ste!" She said, flustered. Her hair hadn't been combed and she wasn't wearing any make-up. Reflexively, Ste took Phoenix into his arms, balancing his shopping on his other arm.

"What's up?"

"We had a bit of a rough night and I've got to meet with a magazine in fifteen minutes." Mitzeee hastily ran her fingers through her hair.

"A magazine? Really?" Ste said, frowning. "I thought you were done with all that."

"It's not like that; it's a piece on being a single mum in the limelight."

"Sounds a bit trashy." Ste told her, poking his tongue out at Phoenix who returned the gesture.

"They're paying me a grand for it though so I can't exactly turn it down." Mitzeee admitted, taking out her compact and applying some lipstick.

"A grand?" Ste said, astonished. "Do you think they'd interview me too?"

Mitzeee laughed, snapping the compact shut. "I don't think you have money troubles like the rest of us, Ste. Not with Brendan and Sam around."

"Oi, what are you implying?" Ste asked, annoyed.

"Sugar daddies." Mitzeee winked, but she was only teasing. She looked at Ste desperately then. "Can you watch Phoenix for me? Just a few hours."

"Mitz, I have work…"

"Can't he go with you?"

"To the club?" Ste gave her a look. "Well I suppose Declan could watch him-"

"Declan? As in Brendan's Declan?" Mitzeee frowned.

"Yeah, he's come to visit. Brendan's chuffed." Ste felt that familiar glow inside him.

"Aw, that's lovely." Mitzeee said with genuine sentiment. "You'll keep an eye on them though won't you? How old is Declan now?"

"Seventeen, eighteen?" Ste replied. "I'll keep a close eye, don't worry."

"Thanks, babe." Mitzeee said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and smiling apologetically when she got lipstick on him.

"It's fine, you go." Ste laughed, giving Phoenix back to his mother for a quick cuddle.

Phoenix insisted on walking back so Ste was a little longer than planned. He knocked on the door, smiling when Brendan answered. Brendan glanced down at Phoenix in some surprise.

"Last minute babysitter." Ste explained, hoisting Phoenix back into his arms again.

"I'm not a baby." Phoenix said firmly, crossing his arms.

"Course not." Ste smiled, handing him over to Brendan. "Watch him a minute, will you? I need to sort this lot out."

Brendan took him without comment, taking him to sit on the sofa with him and Declan.

"Who's this? Lovechild?" Declan asked, grinning.

"Anne's." Brendan explained. "This is Phoenix. Phoenix, this is my son Declan."

Phoenix frowned at Declan. "You haven't got a tash." He said, sounding disappointed.

Brendan laughed, eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Not for want of trying." Declan answered, disgruntled. "Anne as in Mitzeee, Dad?"

"Yeah." Brendan replied, helping Phoenix take his shoes off. "Why?"

"He fancies her!" Ste called out from the kitchen.

"Shut up!" Declan said, blushing.

"She's far too old for ye, Deccy." Brendan told him, giving Phoenix the television remote.

"She's Ste's age isn't she?" Declan glanced back at Ste.

"What are ye trying to say?" Brendan asked, warning edge to his voice.

"Nothing!" Declan asked. "It's weird really, I'm probably closer in age to Ste than you are, and Ste's dad is probably closer in age to you than you are to Ste."

"Please stop." Brendan said, deadpan.

"He's only messing, Bren." Ste told him, putting the waffles in the pan. "There's a coffee here if you want it."

Brendan strode over purposefully, taking a sip and wincing. "How many sugars are in this?"

Ste gave him a hard look. "One."

"Ugh." Brendan reached for the sugar tin, putting two more spoonfuls in. "I know, I know. Tubby." Brendan sighed, taking a large gulp. "Ah." He closed his eyes in contentment.

Ste rolled his eyes, turning the waffles over as they cooked. "We're gonna have to take Phoenix to the club with us. You alright watching him, Declan?"

"Sure." Declan called over from the sofa. "Will Mitzeee be picking him up?"

"Yeah." Ste replied, laughing. "Honestly, what is he like?" He directed at Brendan.

"Chip off the old block." Brendan replied, wistful smile on his face. "Makes a nice change that it means something good."

"Hey, are you gonna…" Ste lowered his voice, prompting Brendan to lean in closer. "Tell Declan… about Seamus?" Ste hated to bring it up but he'd been wondering it ever since Declan had arrived. Even though Declan believed that his dad didn't murder Seamus, he still didn't know the whole truth.

"Steven…" Brendan pulled away, eyes wide with undisguised fear. "I can't."

Ste was sorry to have mentioned it; he hated seeing Brendan in such pain.

"It's okay, you don't have to. I just wondered." Ste daren't touch him right now but gave him a comforting smile which Brendan eventually returned.

Ste served the waffles at the table, giving Phoenix a few cushions to sit on. He cut them up on his plate, letting him eat with his fingers without the use of plastic cutlery he usually had.

"I feel silly." He said sulkily, looking at his sticky hands.

"No need, little man." Brendan said, discarding his own knife and fork and using his hands like Phoenix. He ate messily, getting sauce all over his moustache. Phoenix squealed delightedly, mimicking him. Ste couldn't help smiling, even though Mitzeee would kill him later for getting his clothes so messy.

"Who did Mitzeee have a baby with anyway?" Declan asked curiously.

"Riley Costello." Brendan answered, a little distastefully. Ste shot him a warning look. "Top bloke." He added quickly, smiling at Phoenix.

"Ste's like my daddy now." Phoenix said proudly.

Ste felt himself flush with pride. "Aw, mate…" He ruffled his hair affectionately.

"But Ste loves Brendan, not Mummy." Phoenix said knowledgeably. Declan couldn't disguise his grin.

"You're what, three?" Declan laughed a little. "Smart kid."

"Tell me about it." Brendan murmured, smiling.

They finished their breakfast, throwing their coats on and stepping outside. Brendan scooped Phoenix up onto his shoulders, taking a little longer than normal to straighten.

"Feeling it in your back?" Ste teased, flashing him a grin.

"Don't be cute." Brendan said, giving him a look. "My back's fine."

"You are getting on a bit though, Dad." Declan pointed out. "Maybe you should consider settling down." He winked at him and Ste. Ste felt the colour rising in his cheeks.

"Shut up." He said, looking away. Brendan stared at him, mouth twitching in amusement.

"Someone's gone shy." Brendan noted, giving him a gentle nudge.

"No I'm not." Ste said sulkily, walking ahead of them. Brendan and Declan laughed behind him.

Ste was relieved to finally arrive at the club. Brendan touched the small of his back in apology but he was still smiling. Ste returned the smile, trying to ignore the warmth in his belly that had been present since the teasing started.

His dad was behind the bar when they went upstairs. He smiled broadly when he saw Ste, the smile fading when he clocked Brendan, Declan and Phoenix behind him.

"I hope you don't mind, Mitzeee needed to be somewhere."

"It's fine." Sam replied airily. "He can play in the office."

"He's gonna need something to do." Ste said, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Hang on." Brendan said, putting Phoenix down and rushing into the office. Sam stared after him, mouth gaping open.

Brendan returned a few moments later, paper and colouring crayons in his hand.

"Where did you get those?" Sam asked in astonishment.

"Kept them under a loose floorboard in the office." Brendan said, handing them over to Phoenix.

"What for?"

Brendan straightened, looking at Sam carefully. "Leah used to colour here, I kept them in case she came back." He swallowed visibly.

Ste stepped closer to him, resting his hand on his arm. "She will soon." He whispered reassuringly. Brendan nodded, not taking his eyes off of Sam. There was an uncomfortable silence until Declan broke it.

"We'll be in here then." He said warily, taking Phoenix by the hand and walking into the office. He left the door open, settling next to Phoenix on the sofa. Brendan strode in after him, handing Declan his phone.

"It's got internet, go nuts." He said. Declan nodded gratefully at him.

"Where do you want us then?" Ste asked chirpily.

"Stock taking." Sam told him after a moment's pause.

"Oh." Ste frowned, feeling a little embarrassed. "Can Bren help? I'm not too good with reading the names."

"If you like." Sam said, straining a smile. It made Ste uncomfortable, this bad blood between them. Brendan said nothing, steering Ste downstairs to the cellar. Once they were alone Ste relaxed.

"Not sure how long I can keep this up." He admitted, leaning against some crates.

"What?" Brendan asked, taking the stock sheet out of Ste's hands and beginning to count by the crate load.

"All this tension, it's giving me a headache." Ste rubbed his temple for good measure.

"Just try and carry on as normal." Brendan told him, whizzing through the sheet at an alarming rate.

"You know, I did the stock when you were away the last time, took me twice as long though."

"It's not a problem, Steven." Brendan said. "I'm just used to doing it."

"You can read properly." Ste responded, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his voice.

"Ye can read too." Brendan said, handing him the sheet. "Give it a try."

Ste squinted at the paper. "Most of them are fine, it's these long ones. But some I can recognise anyway."

"Have ye ever thought of getting some help with it?" Brendan asked carefully, not wanting to offend him.

Ste shrugged. "Never had time really, plus I hated school. Teachers had no clue how to help me, thought I was just playing up because I was trouble, not because I needed someone to ask what was wrong."

Brendan blinked at him, odd expression on his face.

"What?" Ste asked nervously.

"Same for me." Brendan said after a while, voice gruff.

Ste stared at the floor, fists clenching. "I used to wish Seamus had lived, you know? So I could kill him myself."

"Steven!" Brendan exclaimed, stunned.

"What? It's true. I wanted to get my hands around his neck and-" Ste made a violent gesture in mid-air. Brendan relaxed, smiling at him.

"Ye are something else, ye know that?"

"Yeah, well just know I've got your back, okay? I know I'm a bit skinny and I tend to get myself hit by mini-buses and blown up in fires but I'd kill anyone who tried to take you away from me." Ste had surprised himself with his speech, said with such conviction and honesty. Brendan sobered, wrapping his arms around him in response.

"Ditto." He whispered against him, kissing his neck tenderly.

The rest of their shift passed by uneventfully. Mitzeee came in around lunchtime to pick Phoenix up, leaving Declan stumbling over his words and staring after her as she went.

"She's gorgeous." He said, mesmerised.

"Uh huh." Brendan laughed, ruffling his hair. "Stick to girls yer own age, son."

"Well I'm not taking a leaf out of your book, that's for sure." Declan said, winking at Ste.

"Right." Brendan rolled his eyes. Ste was proud of him; not long ago Declan's words would have brought him intense relief, now he was happy as long as Declan was.

Their shift ended at six that night. Ste never understood the need for daytime shifts; all they did was stock take and clean. He preferred to be buzzing around the bar, serving drinks and chatting to customers. A few came in at lunchtime but it was still relatively quiet. Just as Ste was gathering his bag to leave, Sam came up to him hastily.

"Really sorry to do this but two of the staff have called in sick tonight." Sam gritted his teeth in annoyance. "Do you mind staying a bit longer? Until I can arrange some cover?"

"Course." Ste put his bag back down. "I'm sure Bren will stay too." Ste looked at him for confirmation. Brendan was already back behind the bar, arranging things with ease.

"Not a problem, Samuel."

Sam stared at him coolly. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Ste stared between the two of them warily. "Listen, Dad. Could I have a quick word?" Ste asked, lowering his voice.

Sam nodded, gesturing that they go into the office. Ste could feel Brendan's eyes on them the entire way. It was both comforting and unnerving to know he was keeping watch over him. He had nothing to fear when it came to Sam though, not really.

"What is it, son?" Sam asked the moment the door was closed. Ste perched on the edge of the sofa, looking at him steadily.

"Do you have a problem with Brendan?" He asked, getting straight to the point.

"What? No." Sam said quickly, too quickly for Ste's liking.

"I've seen the way you look at him sometimes." Ste said. "I'm not stupid."

"I know you aren't." Sam answered quietly. He sighed heavily. "The truth is, I'm worried about you."

Ste frowned at him. "Why?"

"Why?" Sam repeated. "I've heard…rumours. About him, about you. About both of you."

"You can't let village gossip worry you." Ste said reasonably.

"So he didn't beat you up when you were together?" Sam asked, breathing through his nose. He was obviously upset but trying not to let it show.

Ste blinked, stunned. "Who told you that?"

"Anyone and everyone. Since he arrived I've been finding out more and more about him, and none of it is good." Sam said, eyes blazing intensely.

"Dad…" Ste didn't know what to say. He couldn't defend Brendan for his actions or attempt to explain the complexity of their relationship. Instead he settled for the truth of the present. "He's changed. He wants to make it right. Before he went to prison he really made progress, for the most part."

"For the most part, exactly." Sam knelt in front of him, taking him by the shoulders. "I don't want to see you get hurt. I left you with Terry for all those years and look what happened. I can't have it happen all over again."

"It won't." Ste said imploringly. "I'm a big boy; I've learnt a lot in the past twenty-six years than most people my age. I can handle it. I know him, Dad. I _love _him. I won't give him up, I can tell you that much."

Sam peered into his face, seemingly searching for something. He nodded as though satisfied.

"I trust you, Steven. I'll make more of an effort. But if there's ever a problem you know that I'll be here, okay? You won't be alone."

"I know that. Thanks, Dad." Ste smiled then, holding out his arms. Sam pulled him up into an embrace.

"Love you, kid." He murmured against him.

"You too, Dad." Ste replied.

They pulled apart, Sam clapping him on the shoulder before he went out of the office. Brendan was still behind the bar, gazing at the now opened door. Ste gave him a pointed look and Brendan had the good grace to look apologetic.

The club filled up fast; Sam spent a great deal of time in the office getting in touch with other staff to cover. Ste didn't mind, he was enjoying himself. He hadn't worked a night shift yet; Sam hadn't been sure if he was ready for it. He felt more relaxed like this than he did during the day. He supposed it was because with all the life and bodies buzzing around the place, it was easy to forget what had happened here.

Brendan seemed more comfortable too, serving and keeping an eye on everything in Sam's absence. The villagers stared at him often, as though wondering when he might snap. Ste resented them for it, and glared at any who tried to rile him.

Unfortunately one of the punters got a little hands on with Ste as he walked through the crowd back to the bar. He was drunk and in his late twenties. Ste didn't recognise him so he figured he must be from out of the village. Brendan clocked him easily enough, striding over purposefully, face full of thunder.

"Err, mate I would go if I were you." Ste told the guy, trying to help him out.

"Back to mine, yeah?" He slurred, wrapping an arm around Ste's waist.

Ste laughed, pulling away from him. "I tried to warn you." He said, as Brendan closed in on them.

"Is there a problem?" He asked, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his shirt.

"What? No! I was just chatting."

"Didn't look like it from where I was standing." Brendan growled, face inches from the guys.

"It's a free country, init?" The guy, rather bravely Ste thought, argued.

"I don't know, ask all the men I met when I was in prison a few weeks ago." Brendan snarled.

The guy's eyes widened in fear. "Sorry, mate. I don't want any trouble."

"If ye sniff around my boy again I'll kill ye, understand?" Brendan gave him a shove in the direction of the stairs, where he tripped over himself in his haste to get away.

Ste gave him a level look. "Bit much, don't you think?"

Brendan shrugged, calm once more as he put his own arm around Ste's waist.

"Just doing my bit."

"As what? The jealous boyfriend?"

"I prefer protective boyfriend, or gay lover, or whatever. Ye know that, Steven."

"Hmm." Ste couldn't help but smile. He drew Brendan in for a quick kiss, letting him know exactly who he belonged to.

When Brendan turned back towards the bar, Ste spotted his dad watching them from a distance, unreadable expression on his face.

They ended up staying until ten o'clock. Ste was exhausted by the time they were done. He rubbed at his sore feet, longing for a hot bath when they got home.

"And you have a proper shower, heavenly." He groaned.

"I hope Declan's been keeping himself suitably amused." Brendan said, switching his phone on and off. "Battery." He explained.

"What, you think he might have had a girl round?" Ste grinned, deeply amused by the thought.

"So long as it isn't Anne…" Brendan began. He frowned at his phone. "Huh." He said.

"What?" Ste asked curiously.

"I don't recognise that number." Brendan said, putting the phone to his ear. Ste waited patiently as Brendan listened to whatever the message was. His face suddenly became drained, paler than usual. Ste tensed immediately, fearing the worst. He daren't move forwards; he waited with wide eyes and baited breath for Brendan to hang up.

"Who was it?" He asked the minute Brendan was off the phone.

"Solicitor." Brendan said, dazed.

"Oh no." Ste felt himself begin to shake. "What's wrong? Are they taking you back to prison? What happened? Was it the guy earlier?" He was babbling but he didn't care. Brendan took a moment out of his own bewilderment to wrap his arms tightly around him.

"Shh, calm down. It's not that. It was Seamus' solicitor."

Ste paused, not feeling comforted. "What did he want?"

"They delayed reading out the will, on account of me being inside and other loose ends to tie up."

"What?" Ste pulled away from him. "He actually left you something?"

"Sounds it." Brendan stared away, grinding his teeth together.

"Did they call Cheryl?"

"Yeah, they said."

Ste considered this. "Are you gonna go?"

"I don't know." Brendan admitted. "It's next week, in Ireland."

"We could both go." Ste offered.

"Maybe." Brendan said, hesitant. "I'd have to face Chez."

"Right, yeah." Ste laid his head against his chest. "You don't have to decide anything right now though."

"No. He's calling back tomorrow." Brendan said carefully. "I guess if I did go I could go back with Declan, he's leaving next week as well."

"We should all go. _I _should go." Ste said determinedly.

"Ye don't have to get involved-"

"I want to. You might need me there." Ste said firmly. "Especially with Cheryl. She'll be pissed you didn't let her know you were out."

"True." Brendan murmured. "Would yer dad let us have the time off though?"

"Yeah, I can talk to him." Ste said. "We had a little chat earlier, he's willing to try more, with you."

"That's very big of him." Brendan said, unable his disguise his annoyance.

"He's been asking around about you in the village." Ste explained quickly. "You know what people are like, don't take it personally."

"I don't care what they think, Steven. I care what _you _think."

Ste snuggled closer to him, hoping to transfer some of his good feeling towards Brendan.

"Then we'll do it together." He said resolutely. "Okay?"

"Okay." Brendan agreed, lips brushing the top of his head. "Thank ye."

"That's what gay lovers are for." Ste smiled. Inside however, he was terrified. He couldn't lose Brendan to his dad; even the memory of him was enough to break him into pieces. Ste held on tighter, trying to hold it together. He would have to be the brave one here, for Brendan's sake. He'd be damned if they were going to prove the villagers and Sam right about the two of them. They could get through it. Ste clung to that resolve like his very life depended on it. Truth was, it did.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

"Is this all you're bringing?" Steven asked, wrinkling his nose and holding up Brendan's carrier bag.

"Yeah." Brendan replied, distracted. "What else would I need?"

Steven had a rifle through, messing up Brendan's careful method of throwing his clothes inside, unfolded, and hoping for the best.

"There's only two pairs of pants in 'ere!"

"And?" Brendan patted his jacket pocket, making sure his phone and plane tickets were inside.

"Won't you need more than that?"

"Steven, I spent over three years in prison. I think I can cope for a few days on only a couple pairs of underwear."

"Alright, don't bite my head off." Steven tutted.

"Hey, I wasn't-"

"I'm joking!" Steven grinned at him, bringing a smile to Brendan's lips in return. "I can tell you're stressed, just trying to lighten the mood."

"I know, I appreciate that." Brendan sighed, zipping his bag up once more. "Ye sure ye wanna come?"

"What kind of question is that?" Steven asked. "Besides, I'm all packed, aren't I?" He tapped his suitcase for effect.

"Ye really need all that?"

"Well you'll probably end up borrowing from me at this rate." Steven replied, eyes glinting mischievously.

"Are ye telling me ye have brought more underwear?"

Steven stared at him blankly. "Well… yeah."

"Pity." Brendan smirked, glancing away from Steven's face. It took Steven a few seconds to understand the implication.

"Perve."

"Hey, ye love me for it, baby." Brendan said graciously, widening his arms. Steven barrelled into him, almost knocking him off his feet.

"Git." He growled, kissing him hard on the mouth.

"Now this is the kind of distraction I can get behind…" Brendan murmured against his lips.

They were interrupted by the sound of a horn.

"That'll be the taxi." Brendan groaned, pulling his hands reluctantly from Steven's waist. "Can ye go get Declan for me?"

"Sure." Steven bounded up the stairs, shouting for him. "What are you doing up here anyway?" Brendan heard him ask.

He went outside with their bags, loading them into the back of the taxi. Mitzeee walked towards him, Phoenix holding tightly onto her hand.

"All set then?" She asked. Her mouth was a firm line of anxiety.

"Hey, ye aren't gonna worry are ye?"

"I just…" Mitzeee sighed, looking down at Phoenix. "Your dad. It should stay in the past, you know?"

"I know." Brendan said softly. "But I have to find out."

"Do you though?" Mitzeee said, dropping her voice to a whisper. "After everything he did?"

"I'm doing this for me, Anne. Not him. I need the… closure."

"Closure's overrated." Mitzeee gave a wan smile. "You'll call me, yeah?"

"Course." Brendan grunted, feeling touched by her concern but also uncomfortable. Sometimes it was difficult to look at her, knowing what she knew. She'd been the first person he'd told properly, the first person to look on him with sympathy and understanding.

"You know I'm always here, if you need me." She told him, giving him a quick embrace.

Phoenix looked up at them, troubled and confused. "Where's Brendan going, Mummy?"

"Back to Ireland, sweetheart." Mitzeee told him gently, wiping at her eyes.

"Forever?" Phoenix asked in a hushed whisper.

Brendan knelt down to his level. "Only for a little while, little man. I just need to sort out a few things and I'll be back. Ye won't even miss me."

"Yes I will." Phoenix said stubbornly.

Brendan had to smile at that. "Be good for yer Ma, okay?"

Phoenix nodded, holding out his little arms. Brendan pulled him against him effortlessly, lifting him off the ground. Steven walked down the steps, Declan a few paces behind him. His face was guarded, prompting Brendan to frown and open his mouth questioningly.

"Tell you later." Steven said quickly, taking Phoenix out of his arms to say goodbye.

They spent the journey to the airport in relative silence. Steven leaned against Brendan, warm and comforting. Declan sat across from them, arms folded in agitation. Brendan attempted to ask what was wrong a few times but Steven shook his head warningly. Once they arrived, Declan shot out of the taxi hastily, going to collect the bags out the back. Brendan turned to Steven, needing answers before they boarded the plane.

"He's a bit upset." Steven explained quietly.

"Why?"

"He was kinda hoping to spend more time with you." Steven told him, blue eyes wide and concerned.

Brendan sighed heavily. "He's got a life back home though, he can't drop everything for me."

"But he misses you." Steven told him as though it were obvious. "And he's worried."

"Worried? Why?" Brendan felt his breath hitch involuntarily. Steven was giving him _that _look; the one where he knew Brendan wouldn't drop the conversation but he desperately needed him to.

"Seamus." Steven said the name with pure venom, startling Brendan with his intensity.

"Does he… does…" Brendan trailed off, feeling the moisture leave his mouth.

"No! Not that. But he's picked up things over the years; he knows the effect your dad has on you. He's scared what might happen, so soon after getting you back."

"I'm not going anywhere." Brendan said, very quietly.

"_I _know that, but he doesn't. You should talk to him."

Steven slipped out of his seat then, helping Declan with the bags. Brendan paid the driver, distracted and mind racing with unanswered questions. He didn't get the chance to speak to Declan properly until their bags were checked in and they were seated in the waiting area. Steven mumbled something about getting a paper and left them to it.

"He doesn't even read them." Declan said once he was gone.

"I think we need to have a talk, son." Brendan said, straight to business. Declan looked at him in trepidation, apparently recalling the numerous times Brendan had sat him down for one of his talks, none of them ending particularly well.

"What about?"

"Steven said ye were upset earlier." Brendan began, clasping his hands in front of him.

"I might have been." Declan said evasively. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters." Brendan answered tightly. "Tell me what's wrong."

Declan's eyes flickered to his face and then away. "Why won't you tell me what happened with granddad?"

Brendan visibly flinched, hands curling into fists to stop himself from shaking.

"See?" Declan said, gesturing to him. "You tense up every time I mention him."

"Deccy-"

"I'm not a kid anymore, I can take the truth." Declan breathed through his nose, psyching himself up. "Hit me with it."

Brendan looked into his face, noting with fondness how Declan had cut himself shaving this morning and remembering when he had taught him how to do it in the first place. They'd at least had that moment together. Brendan vaguely remembered Seamus teaching him to shave and how Brendan had cut himself at the chin. He'd barely flinched; at that point he was used to pain and blood and if it wasn't raging internally, it wasn't worth mentioning.

"Declan, I know ye are an adult now so ye will understand when I tell ye this. I'm not ready to explain, not yet." Brendan took a deep, shuddering breath to steady himself. "I can tell ye that yer granddad was not a good man, the very worst of men, and that it's better ye never knew him."

Declan nodded soberly. "Ste knows?"

"Yes, Steven knows." Brendan said, involuntarily looking up to catch him in his sight.

"Auntie Chez?"

"Yes."

"What about mum?"

Declan's question disarmed him momentarily.

"No, yer mum doesn't know." Brendan answered, bowing his head.

"Maybe she'd be easier on you if she did?" Declan asked quietly.

Brendan shook his head resolutely. "It was enough Steven and Cheryl knowing, I'm not… I can't-" He cut himself off, biting his knuckle hard enough to draw blood.

"I'm sorry." Declan said, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. "But I love you, and I just want to make sure you're okay."

Brendan blinked several times, willing himself to get a grip. "I am now." He said softly, giving Declan a watery smile.

Steven came back to them at that moment, smiling apologetically. "Got you a magazine." He said to Declan. "And I got us lemon drops." He said to Brendan, perching on the edge of a seat.

"Lemon drops?" Brendan cocked an eyebrow, relaxing in Steven's presence.

"They help with the ear popping." Steven explained, popping one into Brendan's open mouth.

"Sweet." Brendan said and Steven beamed at him.

"Everything okay now?" He asked carefully. They both glanced at Declan.

"Yup." Declan said, some of his good humour back. He was flicking through his magazine with interest. Brendan peered at the front cover, starting at what he saw.

"Did ye buy my son a nude mag?" Brendan asked indignantly.

"Yeah." Steven shrugged. "I read them all the time when I was his age."

"Read? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Shut up, Dad." Declan grinned. "Ste, this is mint. Thanks."

"Anytime." Steven grinned, nudging Brendan in the side.

Brendan tutted but said no more, checking their tickets again.

They boarded the plane with minimal fuss, Steven bouncing in his seat in agitation the moment they buckled up.

"Sit still, Steven." Brendan told him, glancing over at Declan opposite them.

"I get dead twitchy on planes." Steven explained, leg jumping up and down for effect.

"I noticed last time we went to Dublin."

"You mean came back from Dublin."

"Yeah." Brendan paused. "What was it like, coming over by yerself?" He asked curiously.

"Terrifying." Steven let out a breathy laugh. "When you're on a plane you can't change your mind and turn back. I had to proper psyche myself up on the way, and when I went to find the hotel."

"I'm sorry ye didn't find me the way ye should have." Brendan mumbled, embarrassed.

"Please don't remind me." Steven closed his eyes as though warding himself off from the memory.

Brendan gave a low chuckle. "It could have been worse."

"How?" Steven asked incredulously.

"We could have been… ye know…" Brendan trailed off, wishing he hadn't spoken by the look of pure rage on Steven's face.

"I should of killed him right there." He said darkly, not really meaning it. "Or punched his stupid, smug face in."

"Steven." Brendan said firmly, hand on his arm. "Don't upset yerself."

"Was he shit? Tell me he was shit." Steven whined, growing more petulant.

"Awful, nothing on ye." Brendan said loyally. He tried to hide his smirk but Steven saw it peeking through.

"It ain't funny! He's a bloody McQueen!"

"Ye say that like it's a disease."

"Well isn't it?"

"Point."

Steven began to smile in spite of himself. "What are you like, eh?"

"I don't know, why don't ye tell me?"

"I'm not here to enlarge your ego." Steven told him plainly.

"You're here to enlarge something."

"Bren!" Steven all but squeaked, putting his hand over his mouth. Brendan licked him but Steven didn't draw his hand away. Brendan bit him gently instead, startling Steven into removing it. "Git." He murmured, crossing his arms.

"Aw, don't be jealous." Brendan leaned in close to him. "Ye know you're my boy."

"Brendan." Steven squirmed with pleasure in his seat, giving the desired effect.

They dozed the remainder of the way; Brendan hadn't slept well the night before and neither had Steven. Declan had to call out their names several times to startle them to alertness.

"It wasn't even a long flight!" He said, incredulous.

Brendan shook his head groggily; they must have only slept for half an hour and he didn't feel any better for it.

"What time's our train to Dublin?" Steven asked, stretching out like a cat.

"Couple of hours." Brendan told him, helping him to his feet.

"I should come with you." Declan said from beside them. Brendan sighed, ready to argue his case again.

"Eileen's expecting ye, we've talked about this."

"But I can just call her, tell her there's been a delay."

"Declan-"

"Please, Dad." Declan pleaded.

Brendan rubbed his forehead tiredly. "It's gonna be hard enough, Declan. I don't want ye to hear anything that man has to say."

"What's he going to say?" Declan asked, looking from Brendan to Steven. "It's a will, what _can_ he say?"

"Sometimes they leave a letter or something." Steven shrugged. "I brought my lighter in case."

"Steven!" Brendan exclaimed, stunned.

"What?"

"Ye still own a lighter?"

Steven looked at him sheepishly. "You never know when it might come in handy."

"Alright." Brendan let it pass. Declan looked between the two of them as though they were crazy which was probably a fair assessment.

They took a taxi from the airport to Eileen's, Brendan tensed the entire way. Steven didn't fair much better either. Brendan couldn't blame him; the prospect of seeing Eileen was daunting, at best.

"I think I'll stay in the car." Steven said, sinking into his seat as though hoping it might swallow him up.

"Ye can't do that, she'll notice."

"She won't want me in her house anyway." Steven said, glancing apologetically at Declan.

"I want you there, that's all that matters." Declan said, matter-of-fact. Neither of them could argue with that.

To Steven's intense relief, Eileen wasn't home when they arrived.

"Gutted." He whispered to Brendan, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Steven." Brendan murmured warningly, following Declan into the kitchen.

"She's taken Paddy to football practice." He said. "She'll be back in an hour if you want to stay."

"We can't, we have that train-" Steven began but then quietened at the look on Brendan's face.

"We can stay, if ye want us to."

"No you're alright, Auntie Cheryl will worry where you are."

Brendan's stomach clenched at the thought of Cheryl. As if he didn't have enough to deal with today.

They stood awkwardly in the tiny kitchen, none of them quite knowing what to say. Steven eventually broke the silence by stepping forwards to embrace Declan.

"Don't leave it so long next time, yeah?"

"Yeah, course." Declan said, patting him on the back.

Brendan pulled Declan into his arms after, clasping him tightly to his body. "We'll be back after Dublin for a few days. Tell Eileen to expect us." Steven groaned from behind him but Brendan ignored him, holding Declan at arms length to get a final look at him. "Thanks, son."

"For what?"

"Coming to see yer old Da."

"Old? You aren't quite forty, _yet_." Declan grinned, prompting Brendan to ruffle his hair.

"Yeah, yeah get on with ye."

They left soon after, Steven entwining their fingers together when they were alone once more. Brendan stared down at their hands, thoughtful look on his face.

"Yer a bit obsessed, aren't ye?"

"With what?" Steven asked, wrinkling his nose.

Brendan brought their joined hands up to their faces. "This."

"I like it."

"Uh huh."

"Besides, I'm bound to get run over otherwise, or kidnapped or-"

"Steven, please. Not today." Brendan said wearily, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Okay." Steven said, deflated. He attempted to take his hand away but Brendan pulled it back, looking at him in confusion. "I thought you didn't wanna."

"I didn't say that."

"But you got all moody about it."

"It's fine, just stick close to me."

"I was only kidding about all that!"

"Yeah, I know. But it's not exactly far out of reach, is it?"

"Walker's been splatted by a train, Bren. I don't think he's lurking around any corners."

Brendan groaned, pulling them faster along the street along with their bags.

"Why are we walking anyway?"

"Station's not far."

"Still…"

"Come on, Steven. Bit of exercise won't do ye any harm."

Steven sighed, saying nothing. He must have known through the tension in Brendan's body not to push him too far today.

They took the train to Dublin, thankfully in first class. Brendan pushed their seats back so they could rest a while but Steven was restless beside him.

"What's the matter?"

"Feels funny."

"Come here." Brendan said, pushing the armrest out of the way so Steven could easily slot against his body.

"Won't people look at us?"

"I don't give a fuck." Brendan said tersely. Steven laid his head against his chest, eyelashes fluttering closed. Brendan took a moment to stare at him, stretching into several more until Steven was fast asleep.

Even with Steven safe and secure beside him, Brendan still found he couldn't rest properly. His mind was filled with images of Seamus, of his final word and will. He wished he could forget the whole thing and take Steven out for the day instead. Last time they had been in Dublin it had only been the beginning, a world of possibilities and hopes. Now Brendan wanted to cement that feeling, let Steven know that this time no one would come between them.

He must have dozed off eventually because next thing he knew, Steven was shaking him awake.

"We're here." He said groggily, hair a mess and sleep in his eyes. Brendan flattened his hair for him and tried to rub his eyes until Steven batted his hand away.

Steven rubbed his back gingerly as they collected their bags and went out onto the platform. It was only a ten minute taxi ride to the solicitor's office. Brendan looked out the window at Dublin buzzing with life and longed to escape the confines of the ordeal ahead of him. Steven was a steady and constant presence beside him. Steven kept close to him, but not too close. Even after all this time he still knew how to deal with him and Brendan found himself wondering why a man like Steven stayed with someone like him. As though reading his thoughts, Steven frowned at him, shuffling that little bit closer, his hand on the lock of the taxi.

The building was a small one, drab and grey. Brendan felt the hair at the back of his neck prickle in anticipation. Steven took his hand once more, presenting a united front. Brendan took strength from the touch and made himself walk forwards. They left their baggage at reception before they went up several flights of stairs, not speaking. Brendan heard Cheryl before he saw her. Her and Nate grew silent the moment Brendan and Steven appeared at the top of the stairs. Nate gave a small smile, hardly knowing how to react in a situation like this. Cheryl was beaming but she was crying, hand laid protectively across her protruding stomach.

"Bren!" She gasped, rushing towards him and throwing her arms around his neck.

"Watch the bump." Brendan murmured, clinging her as close as he could.

Cheryl gave a little sob, pulling away enough to cup Brendan's face in her hands.

"I can't believe you're out." She said, brushing her thumb over his jaw.

"Yeah well, can't cage an animal forever."

"You aren't an animal." She whispered, her eyes already giving her away. She was petrified, shaking in Brendan's arms.

"Shh, it's okay." He said, pulling her against him once more and rubbing her back soothingly.

"I wasn't sure whether to come today." Cheryl said when they eventually drew apart, wiping her eyes. She embraced Steven whilst Brendan shook Nate's hand.

"Got to be done." Brendan grunted, tense once more. Steven brushed his wrist with his fingertips familiarly.

"It's been a long battle even getting here, over three years and nothing."

"They said something about loose ends." Brendan said vaguely.

Cheryl nodded. "He had a lot of assets and well…" Cheryl grew uncomfortable now, twisting her hands together.

"What?"

"He made a request that the will only be read with you present, unless of course you didn't outlive him-"

"Well, isn't that nice." Brendan said dryly.

The door opened then, startling all four of them. Brendan gritted his teeth, following Cheryl and Nate inside.

"Hey." Steven said, pulling him back. "We don't have to do this."

"Ye heard what she said, won't be read without me there."

"Who cares?" Steven said angrily and Brendan had to smile.

"I need to put this to rest, Steven."

"Alright." Steven said reluctantly. "I'll be here."

"I know." Brendan said, guiding him inside the room first. The door clicked shut, the finality making Brendan's back tense uncomfortably.

The solicitor went through all of the formalities. Brendan barely focused in on his words. His leg jumped up and down in agitation. Cheryl kept side-glancing him to make sure he was okay, Nate holding one of her hands, the other resting on her stomach.

Eventually the solicitor got to the point. He was a middle-aged man, greying on top and rotund. He was professional to a point, the kind of man Seamus would appreciate.

"Mr Brady had numerous assets to investigate but overall his final balance evened out to two hundred thousand pounds."

Brendan scoffed.

"Seems strange that he had all that money when he had to gamble to get the pub." Nate noted with some trepidation.

"The majority of his funds were tied up in savings accounts which I believe he intended to keep protected, in the event of his death."

Cheryl gave a small, dry sob. Brendan's jaw clenched. This was hardly the place for her, especially pregnant. He inclined his head to tell her exactly that until Steven shook his head at him.

"He left a total of one hundred and ninety thousand pounds to you, Mrs Tenbury-Newent."

Cheryl remained silent, white and drawn. Nate appeared tense beside her.

"I don't want it." She said eventually. "Any of it."

The solicitor raised his eyebrows but otherwise feigned to comment.

"We can give it to charity, Cheryl. Maybe a children's one." He glanced at Brendan then and Brendan stiffened.

"And what about Brendan?" Cheryl asked tentatively. "And the other ten thousand pounds?"

"Mr Brady made an amendment close to the time of his death. He left ten thousand pounds to Mr Steven Hay."

Brendan was hardly conscious of the fact he was out of his seat until Steven was standing beside him, begging him to sit down.

Brendan did so, his body no longer rigid with tension but now shaking with rage.

"And to Mr Brendan Brady," He continued as though Brendan hadn't interrupted him. "He leaves his premises…" Brendan didn't hear the address, he knew without needing to.

"The pub." Brendan said weakly. "Here."

Steven's gaze snapped to his. "But it's abandoned."

"Mr Brady stipulated that you do with it as you wish; sell it, keep it. But above all else, he hoped you gained the same level of enjoyment you did when you worked there yourself."

"Excuse me?" Brendan snarled, bile rising in his throat.

"That was the message enclosed, Mr Brady. I know nothing more."

Brendan had heard enough. He had to get out of the room. It was stuffy and dank, the walls small and enclosed. He felt hot and sticky, as though hands were pressing him down. He barely registered Cheryl's stunned silence or Nate's concerned gaze. Steven followed him out, his pleas for Brendan to stop falling on deaf ears. Brendan only heard a faint buzzing sound, as though he'd been boxed round the head.

The _pub_? The one place Seamus had felt at home, a place he had used to ridicule and torment Brendan, to show him that he was a popular, well-liked man in the community and there was nothing Brendan could say to change that. Not only that, the place was a dead end; no hope of renovation or even a good sale from it. Brendan was stuck with it, and stuck with the reminder of Seamus. His skin crawled with revulsion, his eyes blinded with tears, hot and burning on his face. He couldn't see through the haze of pain and red.

Maybe he could have dealt with it, if it had just been the pub. But _Steven. _He'd left Steven money, staked a claim on his future, a claim on _him. _Brendan retched, hardly able to comprehend the horror of it.

He vaguely felt hands on him, trying to slow him down. He shook them off, not wanting to be touched, perhaps ever again.

"Brendan, please!" Steven's voice cut through the haze, desperate and agonised. Brendan turned suddenly, wanting to cling to that light but in his haste he had knocked straight into him, sending him crashing heavily to the floor.

There was nothing but silence then. Steven was already getting to his feet, ready to start all over again. Brendan was screaming, at least it sounded that way in the muddled state of his mind.

"I didn't… no, I didn't know ye were that close, I didn't. Steven-"

"I know, it's okay." Steven said softly, trying to get through to him. "I'm fine."

But he knew that wasn't true. Steven had winced as he drew close to him. He already had a bad back and here Brendan was, making it worse like he _always _did. He had to leave before he did anything else.

"I have to go." Brendan said, taking in Cheryl and Nate behind Steven, evidently alerted by the screaming.

"No, Bren don't-" Steven protested but it was already too late. Brendan tore down the steps, hardly aware of where he was going. He just knew he had to escape, one way or another.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

"Are you okay, Ste?"

Cheryl's hands were on him, attempting to soothe. He brushed her off, not too unkindly, and started following Brendan out of the building.

Cheryl stopped him with a firm hand; he'd almost forgotten how strong she was.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, love."

Ste whirled on her, incredulous.

"Did you see him? He's a mess, Cheryl! After everything he's been through-"

"I'm not denying that, believe me!" Cheryl interrupted hastily. "I'm just saying in that mood, Ste… you know what he's capable of."

Ste blinked, hardly able to absorb her words.

"After everything he did for you…"

"Ste!" Cheryl pleaded, hands gripping his shoulders tightly. Her face was pinched with worry, for him and for Brendan. Ste regretted his tone and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Cheryl. He has changed though, you haven't seen it."

Cheryl's shoulders deflated, hunching in on herself. "He wouldn't even call me to tell me he's out, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"He had his reasons." Ste mumbled, growing impatient. "I still need to go find him."

"But-"

Nate intercepted her next words by striding forwards, handing Ste a number.

"Call us if you need anything; that's where we're staying."

Ste nodded gratefully, slipping the piece of paper into his pocket.

"Give us your phone." He said suddenly. Nate did so, watching as Ste typed in a number. "It's Brendan's, just in case?"

Nate nodded solemnly. He reached forwards as though to pat Ste on the shoulder but then seemingly thought better of it.

"I remember when Brendan told me to not let his father near our future children." Nate began, resting his fingertips against Cheryl's belly. "I can't thank him enough for that."

"I think it's Cheryl you should be thanking." Ste said. "But I'll tell him, if I find him."

"Be careful." Cheryl said, lips pursed together in anxiety.

"Always am." Ste said, drifting off down the stairs at a quickened pace. His phone was in his hand simultaneously. He had to find him; he didn't like to think of the alternative if he didn't.

He went to all the places he knew of in Dublin that might mean something to Brendan. He started with the Ha'Penny bridge, jostling past adoring couples as his eyes scanned the area. No sight of him. Just as he was about to try somewhere else, his eyes caught on something. He stepped closer to get a better look, heart in his mouth.

One of the locks read 'Brendan and Steven' in Brendan's unmistakeable handwriting. Ste choked back a sob, wondering when Brendan had found time to do such a thing. Was it before prison, or after? Was it during their last trip to Dublin, or Brendan's? Ste touched the lock fondly, the key missing and cast somewhere out in the water.

Ste wasn't the type to read into things; for him life was pretty simple when it needed to be. Except for when it came to Brendan. It felt like a message; a call for help.

With this revelation Ste found a new resolve. He didn't need to find Brendan, not yet. He knew how he could help him. Seamus needed to be purged from their lives, once and for all. Only then could they be free from the past and its restraints.

He tried calling Brendan again but of course no one answered. He left a message instead, keeping his voice as steady and clear as he was able to. His voice stuck on the last words, tears springing to his eyes as he said them.

"I love you, okay? Don't give up on us, not again. Please, Bren."

He fingered the lighter in his pocket, back straightening in confidence he wasn't sure he felt. He knew what he had to do.

Xxx

Brendan sat on the edge of the pier, bottle of whiskey in one hand, the other raking through his hair. His phone buzzed for perhaps the hundredth time. Brendan had half a mind to throw it out into the ocean.

He took another long swig of the bottle, eyes tearful and bloodshot, pulse hammering madly at his throat. He was uncontrollable like this; nothing could penetrate through the fog in his brain. All those years of repressing his rage in prison had finally taken its toll. He couldn't be fixed, there was no happy ending here.

His phone buzzed again, this time a message. Blearily he stared at the screen, realising that he had a voicemail message. He put the phone to his ear, eyes blinking shut as he heard the familiar lilt of Steven's voice.

"Brendan. You need to stop this, it was an accident. You shouldn't be on your own right now. Please come by the pub… I think you'll be happy with what you see… I love you, okay? Don't give up on us, not again. Please, Bren."

Brendan frowned, re-listening to the message. What did he mean by 'you'll be happy with what you see'? What on earth was he supposed to find? Through the haze in his mind Brendan felt the prickling of unease. He didn't like Steven's tone; so resolute and sure that his words held meaning, that Brendan would understand the implication. He didn't, and he had to find out.

It wasn't easy in his state to find transportation. He decided to walk it; it hadn't seemed far last time Steven and him had made the journey. He remembered it well, the way their hands brushed the entire way, just that little bit out of reach. Brendan hadn't even been able to give him that then, that one simple desire. He didn't like to think what else he could be incapable of now. Had he made a mistake, coming back into Steven's life? Wasn't he doing okay with Sam until Brendan had interfered?

His questions clouded his mind as he walked, the journey taking twice as long without Steven's soothing voice to distract him. He listened to the message several more times, listening particularly hard to the last line.

"I love you, okay? Don't give up on us, not again. Please, Bren."

That word, _please_, reverberated around Brendan's head, giving him far too much hope than he deserved. It was only when he arrived outside the pub did Steven's meaning begin to make sense to him. He sped up then, throwing open the door at the same moment he saw Steven flick his lighter, pure intent in his clear blue eyes.

"What are ye doing?!" Brendan exclaimed, not wanting to make a sudden movement in case he startled Steven into dropping the lighter. The whole place reeked of spirits.

"I'm getting rid." Steven said, voice calm and collected. "I'm gonna burn the place to the ground."

"Are ye _insane_?" Brendan started forwards, manic and terrified. "With ye inside still? What the fuck do ye think you're doing?!"

Steven blinked then, confused. "What-?"

"Ye think ye can just leave me like that?!" Brendan shouted, darting forwards and grabbing Steven around the middle.

"Bren!" Steven staggered, clicking the lighter shut.

"Ye can't do that, okay?" Brendan clung to him tightly, nose buried against Steven's neck, inhaling the scent of his boy, wanting nothing more than to carry him out of this wretched place.

"I wasn't gonna stay in here." Steven said, no more than a whisper. He seemed more relaxed now, body moulding against Brendan's own.

"Still fucking risky." Brendan growled, holding him even tighter, vice-like grip.

"I had to do something!" Steven exclaimed, struggling to break free. "You didn't leave me with much choice!"

"What am I supposed to do, huh? Let ye get hurt by me again, time and time again? I can't do it, Steven. I _won__'__t _do it."

"That is _my _choice." Steven said roughly, finally disengaging himself from Brendan's arms. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

Brendan was rendered speechless. He felt like he had the last time they were here, when Steven had told him the past existed only in dust and couldn't hurt him anymore.

"But-"

"No." Steven said fiercely, striding forwards those few feet between them and kissing Brendan violently on the mouth.

Everything after that became crystal clear. The tearing of clothes, skin and lips torn and bitten, tight press of bodies entwined on the floor. Brendan scarcely knew where he ended and Steven began. The boy was feral; Brendan hadn't ever seen him that way before. He laid his hands upon Brendan possessively but with absolute devotion. His hands guided Brendan's to his arse cheeks, spreading and clenching around Brendan's tentative fingers, slicked up with spit.

Steven wasn't tentative in his movements; fucked himself wide open on Brendan's fingers; hot, tight heat almost unbearable in the stifling atmosphere of the room. Steven drew Brendan back to himself every time he wavered, putting on a show for him with every movement. His pale, soft skin glimmered in the light slanting in through the boarded up windows as he moved on Brendan's cock, pulling out and slamming back down to the root, stuttering cries and digging fingers into Brendan's flushed chest.

The climax was almost unbearable in its intensity and Brendan lost himself in the moment, crying out like an enraged animal, pulling Steven impossibly close.

They breathed hard against each other after, bodies slick with sweat and dust. Steven had a cloud of dust in his hair, almost halo-like. Brendan bit down a laugh at the thought.

"What?" Steven asked, beginning to smile.

Brendan mussed his hair, causing Steven to shut his eyes tightly to avoid being blinded by the dust.

"Ugh."

"Just think how much worse it could have been," Brendan told him, expression soft. "Ash would have been a lot harder to shake out."

Steven rolled his eyes, tightening his legs around Brendan's waist. His cock was still inside, not that he was eager to remove it yet.

"I'm not gonna live this one down, am I?"

"Done yer best to make me forget it, so there's that." Brendan said, cupping Steven's face in his hands. "But please don't do anything so stupid ever again."

"If we end up doing _that _again though-"

"Steven." Brendan said warningly, voice sharp and tight.

Steven stared at him knowingly, allowing Brendan to pull him against his bare chest.

"I'm sorry I scared you. It worked though, didn't it? You feel better now?"

Brendan wasn't sure how he felt. He ran his fingers up and down Steven's bare back, doing his best to avoid his scar from the last fire.

Brendan's silence made Steven pull back to look into his face.

"Listen. I had a back-up idea."

"Oh yeah?" Brendan asked sceptically.

"That money Seamus left me-"

Brendan drew in a sharp intake of breath. It took a while for him to come back to himself; his eyes glazed over and his head became hazy again. Steven had to dig his fingernails into his flesh hard and shout his name to gain his attention.

"Brendan!" He gave him a shake, not even attempting to be gentle. "That money, right? I'm gonna use it to get this place knocked down."

Brendan blinked a few times, trying to absorb Steven's words. "Knocked down?" He said blankly.

"Yes! Gone forever, no more than dust." Steven said, his voice strong and unwavering. Brendan could feel him shaking against him however; his distance had frightened him evidently.

"That… that could work." Brendan said, voice hoarse.

"It _will._" Steven said firmly. "Then I'm gonna go and piss on the old gits grave-"

"Steven." Brendan laughed, feeling more like himself. "I think what you're doing is enough."

"Well, alright." Steven agreed reluctantly. He shifted uncomfortably on Brendan's lap. "I think I'd better get off, you know."

Brendan groaned under his breath.

"I can't stay with your cock inside me forever!"

"Why not?" Brendan grumbled, burying his lips against Steven's neck, making him sigh.

"We gotta tell Cheryl you're okay."

Brendan frowned, feeling a pang of guilt. "Is she okay?"

"Just worried about you, like always." Steven said softly, brushing Brendan's hair flat. "This is a fresh start for both of you; you can finally be a proper brother and sister, no more secrets."

"Ye think so?" Brendan asked doubtfully. "After everything I told her… we never got the chance to talk about it, after."

"You mean like with murdering your nan?"

"Steven!" Brendan scolded him, amused and horrified in equal measure by how blunt he was being.

"I get it, she let you down big time. You were a mess; Walker was messing with ya, weren't he?"

Brendan twitched uncomfortably at the mention of him. "There might be more to tell ye on that…" He began awkwardly.

"Don't." Steven said, and he sounded so agonised that Brendan grasped his thighs tightly in fear. "I know about that."

"What?" Brendan hadn't expected to hear that.

"You think I don't know you, Brendan? Of course you two slept together."

"Steven… it wasn't… I didn't, he tricked-"

"I get it, it doesn't matter anymore. He was… you know." Steven shrugged awkwardly. "I don't really blame you."

Brendan froze then, giving him a hard look. "He was _what _exactly?"

Colour rose in Steven's cheeks. "He was pretty alright looking, weren't he?"

"Excuse me?" Brendan said coldly.

"Don't give me that!" Steven sighed, extricating himself with great difficulty from Brendan's body. "He's got nothing on you."

"I swear to God if ye would have gone there-"

"Ugh, don't be soft!" Steven rolled his eyes. "You're being silly."

"Me?" Brendan rose to a standing position, looming over Steven in all his naked glory.

"Yes, you! I was about to commit arson for you!"

"Very romantic, Steven. Shame ye could have gotten yerself killed in the process." Brendan tutted, locating his boxers. "But hey, least ye would have been with yer old mate Walker."

"Shut up." Steven said giving him a shove and almost unbalancing him as he attempted to put his boxers on.

Brendan glowered at him, eyes raking down Steven's smaller but lithe body.

"Jesus." He said, anger stuttering out. Steven was sporting an erection. A fucking _erection. _

Steven held out a finger warningly. "Don't you dare." He said, lips twitching in amusement.

Brendan growled low under his breath before launching forwards, grabbing him around the middle. Steven squealed in delight, rubbing himself shamelessly against Brendan's stiffening cock.

"Ye fucking-"

"Just be quiet, Brendan." Steven said exasperatingly, twisting in his arms to give him a kiss.

It wasn't as rough as the first time; Brendan laid Steven out on the hard floor, kissing down his body and sucking against his skin. His hole was already loose and open to him but Brendan took the opportunity to lick a trail from his balls to entry, hand moving across his chest and stroking his hardened nipples.

"Brendan." Steven groaned, eyes rolling back.

"Still want Walker now, hm?" Brendan asked him, knowing that he was being a dick but not particularly caring.

Steven didn't reply; instead he bucked his hips up against Brendan, inviting him to take him again.

The second time was always different, especially so soon after the first. Brendan could feel the remnants of his previous orgasm coiling through him with each thrust. Steven was satisfyingly vocal and responsive, shifting his hips upwards to Brendan's movements, fingers scraping noisily against the floor. Brendan loved the complete lack of care Steven took to the building. It wasn't until after that he realised Steven had been writing something definitive into the floor, something that made Brendan's breath hitch and his eyes water.

_Mine. _


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty-One

They hadn't spent more than a night at the hotel. After the desolation of the pub, Ste guided Brendan home, most of his fervour diminished in the cold air and the darkening of the night. They had laid on cold sheets, staring blankly at the ceiling and wondering what to do next. Ste had contacted a fretful Cheryl of course, keeping his tone calm and collected so as not to make her anxious.

Brendan was far from okay. Ste spent a sleepless night watching over his restless form; sweating and shaking against the nightmares that wracked through him. He dared not hold him, instead remained a constant and what he hoped, comforting presence beside him on the bed. The demons were far from laid to rest. Ste was beginning to wonder if they ever would be.

He thought a great deal that night; about Seamus, about Terry. Even Sam. All completely different fathers and contrasting indescribably to Ste and Brendan themselves. Ste knew what people thought of him; that he idolised Sam, that he trusted him above all else. Sometimes that was true, and certainly had been when Brendan's absence had played heavily on his every move. But the truth of the matter was, Ste knew the darkness of fathers, the marks they bore and inflicted on their children. He himself had never been perfect with his own children. He had lost himself when Brendan had left and it hadn't been easy re-gaining his sense of self.

He understood the absence of fathers, a consequence Brendan had attributed to his own darkness in the light of his children's innocence. Ste wasn't sure Sam claimed the same, and even if he had forgiven him for not being there, he never forgot. Neglect and absence were a part of Ste's entire being, and Sam had simply added to that shadow, had been the first one to really create it. Ste kept that tiny bit of anger inside of him, using it to ground himself when he became too fond or too trusting. They always left in the end. Fathers, lovers, even children sometimes.

He wasn't sure of his and Brendan's future but he knew he would never leave him voluntarily, and the same went for Brendan. They had created their own family with Leah and Lucas and were building one with Declan, perhaps even Paddy one day. It was something different, almost untainted, and Ste was sure as anything that he was going to cling onto it, be the guardian of them all if that was what it took. Brendan needed saving, protecting. He wasn't nearly as capable as he made people believe and Ste knew the truth; saw it in the way his brow sweated throughout the night, the way his hands groped outwards at nothing, pushing, always pushing away.

At one point in the early hours of the morning, Brendan had reached out for him. Ste slipped into his arms with ease, shaky himself with fatigue and the slow buzz that only sleep deprivation brought. It was easy to feel Brendan's weight on him and know that he was his, that they belonged to each other. It was the interferences, the damaging nature of the past that often clouded them when they themselves weren't the causing factor. Ste was tired, so tired of people deciding what was best for him, of telling him Brendan was no good, not the man for him. He often bit his tongue, wanting to remind them of the mess he had been in his absence, the terrible things he had done without him around. He remembered his parting argument with Doug and saying something of the sort, seeing the blue of Doug's eyes pale and wilt underneath Ste's unrelenting rage and destruction.

He wasn't built for a relationship like that. It wasn't in his nature. He wouldn't be domesticated. He was free in his own skin, just as much a protector of Brendan as he was of him. He knew it was only the beginning for them, that nothing would ever come easy. But that was okay, as he had always said, _because it__'__s you. _

They left the hotel after a quick shower, shared. Ste had washed Brendan's hair for him, had laughed when he'd lathered up his moustache. Brendan's lips had quirked upwards, a flashing smile so beautiful and precious that it made Ste's heart clench. He didn't smile again for the rest of the day.

Nate collected them at midday; they were to stay with him and Cheryl for a few days. Ste was grateful to leave Dublin for a time. It held such wonderful memories for the both of them but Brendan needed a clear head right now. He had jumped straight back into his life after prison, hadn't given himself a moment to breathe and recollect himself. The quiet would do him good, Cheryl had said. Ste laughed; with Cheryl around that was hardly a possibility.

Nate's estate hadn't changed in the few years since Ste had last visited. It was still humungous, far too large for just him and Cheryl. Ste questioned how they would cope with a baby running around, getting lost in hidden bedrooms or falling into the expansive swimming pool. Cheryl had tutted, telling him they had it covered and he could see the nursery if he wanted to. Ste agreed, sending Brendan off to sit in the study for a while to relax.

Cheryl didn't know what kind of baby she was having and as she told Ste, she disliked the idea of gender colours anyway, and so the nursery was decorated a neutral yellow. It gave Ste a twinge, remembering a time when Leah and Lucas had been babies, staring up at him with wide, trusting eyes as though he held all the answers. They still did that, but now they had questions of their own to think about, answers to give Ste because they were so bright, so very much brighter than he had ever been at their age. He told himself it was Amy's genes, until Brendan had crept up behind him in the nursery, voice barely a whisper, and told him he was smarter than he gave himself credit for.

Ste could see the desperation in Cheryl's eyes and knew what he had to do. She hadn't been alone with Brendan since that fateful day in the club; Brendan had point blank refused visitors in prison, despite the pain it had caused the three of them.

He didn't say a word, simply touched the small of Brendan's back and gave him a gentle, reassuring smile that was only reserved for him. As he moved towards the door, Brendan pulled him back by the wrist and kissed him full on the mouth.

"Get a room you guys." Cheryl teased, but without the same joy as the first time she had said it. Her eyes were watery and sad, and Ste was reluctant to stay a moment longer.

"Talk." He told Brendan sternly. "You'll feel better, promise."

"I'll hold ye to that." Brendan murmured, reluctant to let him go at first. After a final squeeze he did so, eyes fixing on Cheryl's face when they no longer rested on Ste.

He closed the door tightly shut after him, breathing a sigh of relief. Nate was halfway down the corridor, holding what appeared to be a bible. Ste frowned at him as he drew closer, incredulous smile on his face.

"You serious?"

Nate appeared embarrassed. "Cheryl said religion was important to Brendan. I thought maybe it would help him."

Ste sighed, taking the bible out of his hands. "Never understood the point of it, me. But you're right, it means something to him, even if it causes the rest of us a whole load of trouble."

"What do you mean?" Nate asked, concerned as he led Ste into an adjacent room. How many rooms did this place have?

"Oh he once made a pact with God to stay away from me. Completely mad."

"Must have been important to him though, what changed his mind?"

Ste shrugged. "Maybe it was my charm, eh?"

Nate smiled, only a little uncomfortable. "He must love you very much." He said eventually, a little pensively. Ste picked up on his tone and it made him curious.

"You and Cheryl are okay, right?"

"Of course we are." Nate said shortly, but he wasn't offended. "It hasn't been easy though. The guilt has weighed heavily on her all these years… I thought once she found out she was pregnant some of that joy would come back to her but it hasn't quite been what I expected."

"It takes time." Ste said reasonably. "And the Brady's…well, not exactly an expressive bunch, are they?"

Nate gave him a wry smile. "And yet they talk like no one's listening." He looked Ste over then as though considering something. "You ever think it matters, your name?"

Ste wrinkled his nose; Nate was odd sometimes, he was obviously educated and had deeper thoughts than Ste could understand but then again, Ste had learnt more about himself and his state of mind in the past six years than he had in his entire lifetime.

"Brendan seems to think so." Ste answered thoughtfully. "I mean, he calls me Steven, don't he?"

"It's nice." Nate said, smiling. "Personal."

"But he calls everyone by their full name."

"But how many people call you Steven?" Nate countered. "Only those who count I suppose?"

"My mum, sometimes." Ste said, a bitter edge to his voice. "And Amy too, so I guess you're right."

"Cheryl took my last name with the barest hesitation." Nate said after a moments pause. "She said she didn't want to be a Brady anymore, said the name was cursed."

"She's probably right actually." Ste replied. "But I'd hate for Brendan to change his name, even if I'm considering changing mine."

"You are?" Nate asked in some surprise. "To your father's?"

"Maybe." Ste shrugged.

"What's in a name, eh?" Nate said, almost poetically.

"Where's that from?" Ste asked blankly.

"Shakespeare." Nate said knowledgably. He straightened. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. It's Romeo and Juliet."

"Oh, right. Think I did that at school. Thought they were idiots, personally."

Nate stared at him, affronted.

"Well they faffed around, fell in love in like a day and then bumped themselves off in the end just because they couldn't be together."

"Surely you know what that feels like though?" Nate asked questioningly.

Ste shrugged. "I wasn't about to off myself though, and I doubt Brendan was either."

Nate sighed as though suddenly weighed down by something. "Look after your Brady, Ste. Trust me."

Xxx

Brendan started off by picking up a teddy bear, rolling it around and around in his hands. He could feel Cheryl's gaze on him but he wasn't compelled to look up at her. He wasn't sure he could look her in the eye.

"Three and a half years, Bren." She said quietly. She had always been the one to break the silence when they were kids. Sometimes Brendan would let her talk to him for hours on end, her getting nothing in return. It soothed him; made him forget for a while what awaited him at night. Steven did the same for him now, coupled with a different kind of affection.

"I'm sorry." He said automatically.

"I don't want you to be sorry." She said, voice raised already.

"I don't know what to say to ye." Brendan said, glancing up and away. He squeezed the teddy tightly in his hands.

"You can start by telling me how you are." Cheryl said, more calmly this time.

Brendan shrugged. "Alright."

"Just alright?"

"Coming back here…" Brendan trailed off, uncertain.

"Talk to me." Cheryl pleaded, taking a step closer to him.

"I can't." Brendan said, voice rasping. "It's too hard, too… sore. Yeah, sore."

Cheryl's face creased with anxiety.

"Hey, don't worry about me though." He said suddenly, taking in her condition. "Ye have better things to worry about than me."

"You're all I've worried about for years." Cheryl whispered, silent tears running down her face. "What you did for me… it went beyond what a brother should do for his sister."

"I had to, Chez. What else was I supposed to do? Let ye lose yer life to that place? No. No, I couldn't do that."

"But look at the effect it's had on you!" Cheryl cried, becoming more distressed.

"I've been okay. Anne, she's been great. Steven too of course. His dad, not so much." He laughed without real humour. "I get by."

"And then you came here." Cheryl said, stepping even closer. "And he's here, isn't he? Wherever you look, whatever you touch…" Cheryl stared off, horrified.

"Sis-"

"I see him every night, Bren. I wake up to his face, laughing at me. He's under my skin; everything I do, everything I feel…"

Brendan shivered at her words, words which resonated so much with his own feelings that it made him sick.

"You have to block him out, find ways…" Brendan tried, somewhat unhelpfully. "Used to be times tables for me when… well, ye know…"

Cheryl drew in a sharp intake of breath and Brendan knew already he had said too much. He had meant to protect her from all of this but life had a way of kicking you sometimes when you were already down.

"I can't block him out, I don't want to. I know what I did. How can I look my child in the face knowing that I killed their great-grandfather?"

Brendan shuddered involuntarily. "Better off."

"I know, Nate told me what you said, remember? It's stayed with him all this time, especially now. He has nothing but gratitude for you."

"Gratitude?" Brendan grunted. "I don't deserve any."

"Of course you do!" Cheryl said, barrelling forwards the remainder of the distance between them and grabbing his hands in hers. "You have no idea how much we appreciate what you did. I wouldn't be having this little one without you." Cheryl rubbed her stomach proudly. "You're my big brother, and you did protect me in the end like no other brother could."

"I introduced ye to a monster, I ruined yer childhood."

"No, _he _did that. And he's rotting in Hell for it." Cheryl said with pure venom. "Sometimes I'm not sorry for it; I'm glad I rid him out of this world for you. He hasn't got a hold on you anymore, Bren. That money he left, the pub… it's nothing. Bricks and paper and nothingness."

"Steven said the same." Brendan said quietly, Cheryl's words seeping into his very soul.

"He's right, always is that one." Cheryl beamed. "I'm so pleased you found each other again."

"Yeah, well… inevitable, isn't it?"

"With you two? Yeah." Cheryl laughed then, appearing much brighter, more like her old self.

They passed a few moments, staring at each other and wanting to say so much more. Cheryl opened her mouth to speak again until suddenly her expression twisted into one of confusion and fear.

"Chez?" Brendan squeezed her hands, the teddy bear long abandoned on the floor by their feet. "What is it?"

"Get Nate." Cheryl said, completely stunned. "My water's just broke."


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Two

Brendan imagined a mad dash to the hospital, Nate in complete panic not knowing what to do with himself. Brendan remembered being the same when Declan was born, more anxious after what happened to Niamh. Instead what transpired was a calm collection of night bags, a call to the midwife and Nate and Brendan carefully helping Cheryl downstairs. Steven went outside to open the car door for her, running back inside to grab the bags. His eyes were bright and excited; he thrived on this kind of joy and activity.

The contractions had already begun but were fairly far apart. Cheryl gritted her teeth, a sheen of sweat already developing on her forehead. Brendan drove with Steven in the front, Nate in the back holding Cheryl's hand tightly and murmuring reassuring words to her.

Brendan wished there was something he could do to take the pain away, to help Cheryl somehow. Steven, as if reading his thoughts, turned the radio on. Bewitched was on one of the stations, making Brendan wince and turn his head to look at Cheryl.

"Anything but this, eh?"

Cheryl grinned at him, tears in her eyes. Nate looked at her wonderingly as if he hadn't seen her smile like that for a long time. Brendan smiled in return, turning back to the road before Cheryl could see the gleam in his own eyes. Steven gave him a soft smile, squeezing his arm knowingly.

They arrived in record time. Once Cheryl was comfortable in her room and being monitored, Steven offered to get the three of them some coffee. Brendan followed him out of the room, wanting to give Cheryl and Nate some privacy.

"Mad, init?" Steven said, stopping in the middle of the corridor to wait for him. "You're talking to her one minute and the next she's about to pop!"

"I must have that effect." Brendan said dryly.

Steven grinned at him. "Are you excited to meet your niece or nephew?"

Brendan shrugged, staring at his shoes. "Yeah." He mumbled.

He knew Steven was frowning at him without even looking in his direction.

He didn't ask him what was wrong, knew better than that by now, instead he took Brendan's hand in his own and didn't let go until they were back in the room with Cheryl and Nate.

"Ye alright, sis?" Brendan asked, taking a seat beside the bed. Steven perched on the arm of the chair, leaning slightly into Brendan's shoulder.

"I'm doing okay." Cheryl said bravely, smiling and gripping the covers tightly. "They warn you about the pain but you think you can handle it, you know?"

"I know." Brendan said gently, reaching out to touch her arm. "Ye need anything? Need me to call anyone?"

Cheryl shook her head. "We've got everyone we need." She said, evidently emotional.

"You should go back to ours." Nate offered. "It's going to be a long wait and we can call you when the time's approaching."

"Bren?" Steven left the decision at his door. Brendan looked at Cheryl, his baby sister, and made his decision straight away.

"I want to stay." He said carefully. "If that's alright."

"Of course." Nate said, nodding as though his answer wasn't a surprise.

A few hours passed by uneventfully. Doctors and nurses came in at intervals to check on Cheryl's progress. Steven asked them all sorts of questions Brendan didn't understand, like how far dilated she was. Brendan didn't want to think about what that meant.

When five o'clock came around, Steven offered to find them some dinner. He came back with sandwiches from the hospital café, double helpings for Brendan as usual. Brendan wolfed one cheese and pickle sandwich down in two bites. Steven rolled his eyes, nibbling on an egg and cress. Brendan eyed him suspiciously.

"How much are ye eating these days, Steven?"

Steven looked at him in some surprise. "What you on about?"

Brendan leaned forwards in his chair, eyes fixed on Steven's face. Steven held his ground for as long as he could, crumbling when it looked as though Brendan wasn't going to give in any time soon.

"A bit, why?"

"Elaborate." Brendan said slowly, still staring him down.

Steven finally glanced away, sighing deeply. "Enough."

"Enough?" Brendan scraped his chair closer, resting his hand on Steven's thigh.

"Big deal, my appetite isn't what it used to be."

"Ye need to eat, Steven. Look at ye."

"Cheers!" Steven said sarcastically, leaning back heavily in his chair. "And I suppose I should be eating like you, yeah?"

"If it adds a little meat to the bones-"

"You saying I'm bony? Fuck off."

"Steven." Brendan said, gentler now. He leaned in closer until he was directly by Steven's ear. Steven crossed his arms haughtily, not giving him an inch. "I'm worried about ye."

"Well I'm worried about _you._"

"Forget me for a minute." Brendan said dismissively, making Steven scoff derisively. "Ye have to take care of yerself, ye know that don't ye?"

"Course." Steven said below his breath. "You sound like my dad."

Brendan flinched a little at that but continued regardless. "When we get home, things have gotta change."

"Like what?" Steven asked quickly, finally looking at him again. His eyes were wide and panicked and it made Brendan regret his vagueness.

"I just mean we've both got to… get better."

"It's not that simple." Steven said plainly, relaxing an inch. "I mean…" Steven's expression changed, looking at Brendan in discomfort. "Would you consider counselling again?"

Brendan looked down immediately, hands twisting into knots in his lap. "I don't know, Steven."

"There's obviously a lot to work through." Steven said carefully.

"But how can I be honest to a stranger?" Brendan said. "Especially when anything I say could be taken back to the police."

"What are you talking about? You're out, you did your time."

"Yeah, for a crime I committed." Cheryl said, walking into the room. Nate was at her side, helping her back into bed.

"Did the walk help?" Steven asked.

"Maybe a little." Cheryl said, collapsing back onto the covers.

"I'm sorry, Chez. We shouldn't be talking about this here."

Cheryl shook her head. "It's fine, Bren. Ste's right though, we all need help."

"We?" Brendan questioned, confused. Nate glanced at Cheryl with an odd expression on his face, one Brendan couldn't work out.

Cheryl sighed heavily, hands crossed on her stomach. "I have to do right by this little one in here. I can't be like I have been."

"And what have ye been like?" Brendan asked, glancing from Nate to Cheryl.

"Bren…" Steven said, touching his arm. "Maybe not here."

"It's okay, Ste." Cheryl said, smiling tightly. "The first step is to the honest, right?"

Brendan rolled his eyes. "That counsellor got us nowhere."

"And I know why now." Cheryl said, her voice hard. "When you talked about your childhood, about dad… I had no idea what had really gone on. Now though-"

"I'm not-" Brendan took a breath. "I'm not okay with talking about it." Each word came out like a punch. Steven's grip tightened on his arm, a constant, reassuring presence.

"Cheryl needs to." Nate said suddenly, warily. "If you knew what happened-"

"Nate." Cheryl said, wincing a little as another contraction came.

Steven took her hand quickly. "We shouldn't be doing this here." He hissed. "When the baby's born-"

"No. I need to do this before he or she arrives." Cheryl said desperately, breathing hard through her nose. "Bren." She held out her hand to Brendan which he took instantly.

"What happened?" Brendan asked quietly.

Cheryl squeezed her eyes shut. "About a year after you went to prison, I tried to kill myself."

Silence descended on the room. Brendan blinked, unable to process what she was saying. Nate came closer now, sitting beside Cheryl on the bed. Steven beside him was still and quiet.

"Why?" He eventually managed to choke out. It seemed like a stupid question but he had to understand.

"I was in a dark place." Cheryl said, looking away from them. "I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. Nate couldn't get through to me. Ste was too damaged to do anything." She glanced apologetically at Steven. "Nate found me before I took a fatal dose, I went straight to hospital to have my stomach pumped and that was it. Nate made me promise to get help after that and I tried, I really did try. But I couldn't tell a professional what was really wrong, just like you said, and I couldn't bear the idea of you rotting away in prison for something I did." She took a breath, dabbing hastily at her wet eyes. "I gave myself a stern talking to though; told myself that after everything you'd done to save me it would be selfish to end it all now. I went through the motions for a while, tried everything I could to find peace; spiritualism, church, silent retreats. Then I found out I was pregnant." Cheryl's expression glowed. "And it changed everything. Suddenly I had someone else to provide for, to be strong for. I had to be better for the sake of my baby. That feeling hasn't changed and now you're here," she pulled his hand to her lips to kiss, "that can really happen."

"Cheryl…" Brendan said brokenly, hardly able to voice what he wanted to say.

"Shh, don't say anything now. I just had to tell you that. We have to promise to always be honest with each other now, no matter how bad. We can get through it together."

Brendan nodded, moving across the bed to hold her in his arms.

For the next few hours they spoke in gentle voices about nothing in particular. Cheryl dozed now and again, woken only by another contraction. When evening came, Steven curled up in the chair, knees almost to his chin, sound asleep. Brendan laid his jacket over him. Nate was already snoring in the other chair.

Cheryl blinked her eyes open, smiling when she saw Brendan.

"I'm really glad you're here." She said gently.

"I'm not going anywhere." Brendan said, bending forwards to kiss her forehead.

Cheryl sighed, looking over at Nate and laughing quietly to herself. "Look at him; it'll be me doing the night feeds."

Brendan's face darkened, an expression Cheryl didn't miss.

"He really tried, Bren. I didn't make it easy on him."

"He should have tried harder."

"He didn't leave though, did he?"

Brendan sighed, rubbing his temple. "Unlike some people."

Cheryl gave him a sympathetic look. "Let's talk about something else. How about you and Ste? How's that going?"

Brendan relaxed then, looking over at Steven with the utmost affection.

"I can't explain it. It's like a fresh start. He's been amazing."

Cheryl smiled, nodding in agreement. "You met his dad?"

Brendan frowned, turning back to her. "Have ye met him too?"

"No." Cheryl said softly. "But I heard all about him on the phone. Ste started to sound a little like his own self again, it gave me hope."

"Saint Samuel." Brendan scoffed, unable to stop himself.

"I said a little." Cheryl said pointedly. "You don't like him then?"

"Not particularly."

"What's he done?"

"Nothing yet, he's too clever for that."

"Did it ever occur to you he might just be looking out for his son?"

Brendan looked at her. "Is that even possible in our world?"

"Maybe not in ours, but Ste's."

"He's had it just as bad, Chez. I just don't trust this guy. Ye know he locked Steven in the cellar?"

Cheryl's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Why?"

"So he could talk to me privately."

"That's pretty… unhinged."

"Tell me about it."

"Then again…" Cheryl smiled now. "Ste told me you locked him in the cellar a few times."

Brendan reddened, aghast. "That was different!"

"I know, love I'm only teasing." She looked over at Steven again. "He's doing okay though?"

"Besides the non-eating and father worship? Sure. Not to mention having to deal with me on a daily basis."

"He loves you." Cheryl said, exasperated. "He won't leave you; you know that, right?"

"Yeah." Brendan said idly, remembering when he'd tried and Steven had actually physically restrained him. "But he has Samuel to look after him now."

"He doesn't need looking after, he's not a boy anymore." Cheryl pointed out. "He's a grown man and he can make his own choices. If he chooses to be with you, you have to respect that."

"I don't get a choice then?" Brendan quirked an eyebrow, amused in spite of himself.

"Do you need one?" Cheryl countered.

"Point."

A nurse came in then to check on her. She smiled kindly at her, Brendan turning away awkwardly.

"I think you're almost there." The nurse said. "Another hour perhaps and we'll be ready to prepare you."

"Jesus." Cheryl breathed, then collected herself. "Thank you."

She left the room and Cheryl turned back to Brendan. "Let's not wake them up just yet."

"Agreed." Brendan said.

"Here." Cheryl shifted an inch, giving Brendan more room to lay beside her on the bed. Brendan put his arm around her, pulling her close.

"Ye excited to be a mum?"

"You think I'll do a good job?"

"Course ye will." Brendan murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Nate and Steven woke again when the doctor came in to prepare Cheryl.

"This is it." Nate said, looking terrified.

"You'll be fine." Steven said reassuringly. "Do you want us to wait outside?"

Cheryl nodded. "Not quite ready for you to see me poo."

"Ew." Steven wrinkled his nose, kissing her on the cheek. "Don't scream too much."

"Thanks." Cheryl said, her expression contorting in pain the next moment.

Steven ushered a reluctant Brendan from the room, finding them seats right outside.

Brendan's leg bounced up and down in irritation after only a few minutes.

"Poo, seriously?" He said eventually.

"Yeah." Steven grinned. "Eileen didn't do that?"

"Not as far as I knew." Brendan admitted. "Mostly she just screamed blue murder at me."

Steven laughed. "Why am I not surprised? Gotta be better than giving birth on the kitchen floor."

"Poor Amy, eh?"

"Yeah." Steven laughed, looking wistful. "One of the best days of my life, when Lucas was born." He said after a pause.

"One of?" Brendan raised his eyebrows.

"There's been four." Steven said, holding his hand up. "When I became a dad to our Leah, when Lucas was born, Dublin and…" he trailed off, embarrassed. "When you came back."

Brendan ducked his head, smile on his lips. "It's a privilege to be regarded so highly."

"I'm being serious!" Steven gave him a nudge.

"So am I." Brendan said, smile not leaving his face.

A while later and Nate was running out of the room, erratic and grinning brightly.

"The baby's out!"

Brendan stood up abruptly, Steven eager by his side.

"Boy or girl?" Steven asked straight away.

"Come see." Nate said proudly.

Cheryl grinned at them when they entered the room. There was a wrapped bundle in her arms. She looked exhausted but happy. Brendan approached the bed slowly, Steven two steps behind him.

"Bren." Cheryl touched his arm gently. "Meet…" Cheryl took a deep breath, nodding and smiling across the room at Nate. Evidently they had pre-agreed on a name. "Brendan."

Brendan felt as though he'd missed a step. Steven gave a gasp from beside him, catching on quicker than him.

"Brendan?" He said wonderingly.

"Yes." Cheryl said, tears in her eyes. "Or Brendan Junior, if you prefer."

"Seriously?" Brendan made a sound halfway between a cry and a laugh. Cheryl did the same.

"We agreed, Nate insisted." Cheryl beamed at him. "It felt right, it _feels _right."

"That's proper lovely, Cheryl." Steven said from behind him.

"Are ye sure?" Brendan whispered, heart swelling with emotion.

"Positive." Cheryl said. "You wanna hold him?"

Brendan looked over at Nate.

"Oh I held him first, don't worry about me." He said quickly. Brendan looked back at Cheryl, holding out his arms for the baby.

He wasn't quite used to doing this and Steven helped him adjust the baby properly.

"He's got your eyes." Steven told him, as little Brendan opened them tiredly.

"He looks like his Ma." Brendan said wonderingly.

"He's got his dad's hair." Steven said, earning himself a chuckle around the room.

Brendan gave the baby to Steven after. Steven was a natural; rocking him gently in his arms. The sight was an odd one to Brendan, even though he'd seen Steven around children countless times before. Steven carefully gave him back to Cheryl, leaning against Brendan and letting out a whoop of air.

They went back to the estate afterwards with a new sense of urgency for each other. Before they were even through the door Brendan had Steven pushed up against the wall, hands wrapped around his waist in a tight grip.

Their clothes fell away as they moved backwards together, lips barely parting except to breathe. They collapsed onto the living room floor, naked and grappling hands against bare skin. Brendan was on top of him, pulling his legs around his waist and spitting on his fingers hastily.

Steven ground himself into the rug on the floor, legs tightening with each push of Brendan's fingers. Before he was even fully loose he was begging Brendan to get inside. Brendan didn't need telling twice; his cock was teasing against Steven's hole before Steven dug his fingernails hard into Brendan's flesh, ordering him to fuck him and to do it _now. _

Brendan knew the times when Steven didn't want him to gentle. He always held back regardless, always afraid of the pain he knew he could inflict. Sometimes when Steven was fired up like he was currently, there was no escaping the inevitable. Brendan's thrusts were hard and Steven was rubbed raw against the material of the rug. There were red patches on both of their skin where they'd gripped each other too tight throughout, hard enough to surely bruise. Brendan kissed the soreness away as best he could but Steven was full of life; ready to be re-born and to take Brendan with him.

They climaxed almost simultaneously, their cries echoing through the distant corridors of the large estate. Brendan was suddenly grateful for the lack of neighbours.

Afterwards they curled together on the floor, roasting beside the fire that Brendan had started up for them. It really was an incredible house.

Brendan kissed a particularly sensitive area on Steven's shoulder. The bite marks were still faintly visible.

"We might have gone a bit far this time." Brendan murmured into his skin.

"It's been a long, weird and wonderful day. I just had to have you, nothing holding us back."

"Ye can say that again." Brendan brushed his hand over Steven's bare stomach, resting on his thigh where a bruise was beginning to bloom. "I don't know if it's right, Steven. To want this so badly."

"Of course it's not right." Steven said, matter-of-fact. "But it's _us _and I don't care."

"Yer dad will care." Brendan said, resigned already to what awaited them when they eventually went home.

"He'll see that I'm happy and that's all that matters." Steven said contently. "I can hear my phone." He said suddenly, reaching over to his trousers a little way across the floor. Brendan kept a hold of him, feeling tense, as though the spell was about to be shattered. "Hiya!" Steven said into his phone, very cheerfully. Brendan laughed, moving his hand to cup Steven buttocks and making him squirm in his arms. "Dad, I'm a bit busy right now. Can I call you later?"

Brendan's hand stilled. Steven hesitated then too, talking in a low voice.

"Of course I'm okay. We're just knackered. Cheryl's just had her baby." Steven paused to listen to his reply before he continued. "I dunno when we'll be home, is there a problem with the club?"

Brendan knew there wasn't. Samuel was getting antsy about how long they'd been away. Perhaps he was starting to doubt them ever coming back. Brendan was beginning to wonder the same himself.

"I'll call you tomorrow after I've slept a bit, okay?" Steven hung up soon after. Before Brendan opened his mouth to comment he was talking again, changing the subject. "I think it's wonderful they named the baby Brendan."

"Ye don't think the name is cursed?" Brendan asked, a thought that had been nagging at him all the way home from the hospital.

"Of course not." Steven frowned. "It's like, he'll be his own Brendan. A Brendan with two loving parents and the best uncle in the world."

Brendan smiled, pressing his lips to Steven's shoulder blade. "Ye reckon?"

"His step-uncle will be pretty cool as well." Steven continued, hardly realising what he was saying and the effect it had on Brendan. "We can visit, right? I can't even imagine leaving yet with her just giving birth."

"We have to let them be parents, Steven. We can come back when they've settled down a bit."

"You're right." Steven sighed, turning in his arms to look at him through long eyelashes. "Speaking of names, I'm not sure about changing mine anymore."

"Oh?"

Brendan wasn't even aware he was still considering it, but the thought of him not going through with it soothed him more than he thought it would.

"It doesn't really feel right, becoming a Spencer. I don't know if it's me."

"What is ye then?"

"I don't know yet." Steven frowned. "I think I just want to figure that out first, you know? When I talked to Nate it just made me think about it more, and about other stuff. And then Cheryl today…" Steven trailed off, looking saddened. "I want to focus on us, yeah? Starting when we go home. We should talk about maybe moving in together again."

"Really?" Brendan was completely stunned. "Ye wanna?"

"We'll have to sort it with dad first but I don't see why not. I don't want to spend another night away from you."

"Same." Brendan said quietly, pulling Steven further into his arms.

"That's settled then." Steven said triumphantly.

"I'll book our flights for a few days time, we promised to see Deccy again remember."

"He's got a baby cousin, how weird is that?"

"Weird and wonderful, like ye said, Steven. Weird and wonderful."


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Three

They slept that night in one of the smaller bedrooms; neglecting the one Ste had previously slept in with the four poster bed. It felt more natural to be close together, bodies entangled, breath hot on each other's skin. Ste wasn't entirely comfortable in the large house; he suspected every noise echoing through the vast corridors and empty rooms, imagined strangers lurking behind every door. He wasn't used to being upstairs either; he'd only ever lived in flats and Brendan's bedroom was downstairs.

There was still a conversation to be had regarding their living arrangements. Ste wasn't sure if Brendan would mind moving back into Ste's place after getting his own back so soon. On the other hand, he knew how hurt Sam would be if he moved into Brendan's. It was certainly something to be discussed when they got back home and that wasn't until tomorrow.

"What ye thinking about?" Brendan murmured, brushing his nose against Ste's lightly.

"You." Ste said softly, cursing himself inwardly for sounding like a thirteen year old girl.

Brendan chuckled, pulling him closer with one arm. "Is that right?"

"Are we really gonna leave tomorrow?" Ste asked, wrapping his hand around Brendan's bare arm. It was huge; it made him gulp visibly.

"Is that okay?" Brendan asked, shuffling even closer, if that were possible. They were on a single mattress; there wasn't one body part that wasn't somehow touching.

"Yeah." Ste said. "Will Cheryl be upset though?"

"She'll have her hands full." Brendan replied with a grin. "Ye know how newborns can be."

"True." Ste agreed. "We should warn Declan that we're coming."

Brendan arched an eyebrow, just about visible in the darkness. "Ye mean so he can get Eileen out of the house?"

"No!" Ste said a little defensively. He ducked his head into Brendan's chest to hide his expression. "She scares me."

"What about all the attitude ye gave her last time?"

"Yeah, well that was different."

"This time we're a couple."

"Last time we were meant to be."

"I know, I know." Brendan protested. "Sorry about that." He said with genuine regret.

Ste shrugged, still hiding his face. "Don't matter."

"Steven," Brendan said sternly. "Let me see ye."

"I'm alright here thanks." Ste said, muffled now against Brendan's warm skin.

"Steven," Brendan said again, more firmly this time. "Look at me."

Ste reluctantly raised his head, aware of Brendan's palms suddenly cupping his cheeks.

"That's better." Brendan whispered, kissing him. "Why do ye hide such a pretty face?"

Ste wrinkled his nose distastefully. "Pretty?"

"What else can I call ye?"

"Handsome? Dashing?"

Brendan brushed his thumbs over Ste's jaw line. "Ye aren't scared I'll reject ye in front of Eileen again are ye?"

"Don't be stupid." Ste said quickly, attempting to avert his eyes.

Brendan sighed, moving one hand slowly down the back of Ste's head, past his shoulder blades and spine, resting at the small of his back.

"Nothing to worry about." Brendan breathed gently.

"I'm not worried." Ste answered petulantly.

"Okay, but if ye were-"

"Well I'm _not._"

"Alright." Brendan agreed, flash of teeth in the darkness.

They drifted off to sleep soon after; no nightmares to plague them in the tranquillity and solace of the empty house; coupled with the reassuring fact that they were never from each other's arms.

Ste woke early the next morning, head poking out underneath the covers. Brendan was already up, doing push-ups on the floor. Ste supposed it was his absence that had woken him, or perhaps it was down to the grunting.

"This is nice." He commented, laying on his stomach across the bed and watching Brendan with interest.

Brendan glanced up, mid-push. "Like what ye see?"

The answer was obvious; Brendan was shirtless, his taut muscles contracting with each strain of his muscles. His stomach was tight and sculpted as if from marble. He wasn't all muscle though; there was a small layer of fat just above his hip bone. Ste liked to nibble it sometimes and tease him about it. Alongside his annoyingly skinny frame it was reassuring to him that Brendan wasn't entirely perfect.

"Yup." Ste answered, slithering off the bed and shimmy-ing himself underneath Brendan. "Keep going." He instructed.

Brendan did so, taking care not to crush Ste under his weight. He grew faster and faster, their crotches beginning to brush in the process. Ste felt himself hardening; it was impossible not to considering his view and the images Brendan being on top of him brought. He fantasised for a while about Brendan taking him right there and then on the floor, distracted enough to be startled when he was suddenly being kissed and groped. Brendan pulled at his boxers, his only item of clothing from the night before, and bent down low, resting himself on his palms so their noses were inches apart.

"Fancy a workout, Steven?"

"Always." Ste replied, tipping his head upwards to meet Brendan's lips.

Brendan retained his balance as Ste's hands found his cock, freeing it from the confines of his jogging bottoms. He was grateful for the lack of underwear underneath.

"Do yourself an injury." He told Brendan, marvelling at the sheer size and thickness of him; it never failed to amaze him.

"I remembered to stretch first, did ye?"

"Course, you know me." Ste grinned, fisting Brendan's cock in one hand and ghosting the other across his bicep. "You're fucking huge."

"In what department?" Brendan asked, voice low and amused.

"Every department." Ste replied, with certainty.

There wasn't much room for conversation after that. Brendan lowered himself further, resting himself on one elbow to free his other hand, putting his digits in Ste's mouth to lubricate them before drifting down his chest and stomach and finding his hole. Ste widened his legs underneath him to accommodate Brendan's fingers. He was still feeling a little loose from the night before and evidently aroused by the sight of Brendan's body on display. Soon enough Brendan was lining himself up, pushing inside him fluidly and filling him completely.

Ste arched back, his eyes rolling shut. After years of little contact it was still quite overwhelming to be penetrated again. His body seemed to fit with Brendan's. Despite the slightness of his frame, he was able to take whatever Brendan did to him, was often the one demanding more. Brendan fucked him at a steady pace, wanting to draw out their enjoyment while they were alone and undisturbed.

Ste tilted his hips up, hands underneath his buttocks. He loved the gleam Brendan got in his eyes at the sight; as though Ste were a feast being offered up to him to devour.

He wetted his fingers, touching the base of his own cock and shivering at the sensitiveness of the sensation. Brendan watched him with intense fascination, slowing his movements to watch Ste slowly stroke himself, slow and languid to Brendan's thrusts.

They continued in his manner for some time; simply enjoying each other's bodies and remembering the touches that drove the other crazy. Brendan nibbled at his neck again, causing even more bite marks. Ste giggled delightedly, imagining himself going to Eileen's with a love bite on his neck. Brendan looked at him quizzically until Ste brought his face down to kiss him again.

The climax was long and sweet. Ste rode out the waves of it with pure indulgence, loving the feel of Brendan inside him as he came, wincing a little when it was time to withdraw. He'd barely felt the carpet burns from the night before but now they flared up again intensely.

"Too much?" Brendan asked. "I'll run ye a bath, the tub's huge."

Brendan left him right there on the floor; a hot, sticky mess. He came back ten minutes later, lifting Ste with ease and carrying him to the bathroom. The tub was filled with bubbles and sweet smelling liquid. Ste groaned as Brendan placed him inside before climbing in himself, the tub big enough for the both of them with room to spare. Brendan pulled him flush against his chest, smoothing down his hair sticking up in every direction.

"I could get used to this." Ste said contentedly, stretching himself out and hearing the satisfying pop of his joints.

"Oh yeah?" Brendan hummed, wrapping his arms tighter around him.

"Do we have to go home?" Ste asked, closing his eyes. When he received no response he turned his head a little to look at Brendan. "Bren?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah I'm afraid we do. Unless…" He shook his head, cheeks flushing either from embarrassment or the heat of the bath.

"Unless what?"

"Unless ye really wanna stay." Brendan's gaze found his, deadly serious.

"Oh." Ste said simply, frowning. For a fleeting moment he considered it; him and Brendan living out here by themselves, no one to bother them. They'd be close to Declan and Paddy and Leah and Lucas could visit and treat it like a holiday every time. Cheryl, Nate and baby Brendan would be near; a proper family. At the thought of family Ste stopped himself. He'd only just found Sam, he owed him more than that after how good he had been to him. As if reading his thoughts Brendan didn't push him further. Ste couldn't help detecting a sadness ghosting across his features and he found himself desperate to soothe, to promise everything.

Brendan smiled at him, still content beneath the sadness and it warmed Ste to his earlier happiness. They finished their bath, drained the water and towelled each other off, dressing in fresh clothes for the day.

They stopped by the hospital first to say goodbye to Cheryl and Nate, promising to visit again soon. Baby Brendan was fast asleep when they entered, curling and stretching himself out in his sleep. There wasn't an ounce of worry on his face and it made Ste ache a little. He had everything he needed right beside him; loving parents, a warm bed to sleep in and food on tap. Ste told Cheryl this, earning himself a gentle nudge on the arm and a disgusted look from Brendan at the thought of breast milk.

They left the couple a lot brighter than when they'd encountered them and Ste was pleased for that.

When they travelled back to Eileen's however they were not met with the same enthusiasm.

"Eileen, ye remember Steven." Brendan said without hesitation.

"Mm." Eileen replied, lips pursed in a straight line. "The boys are in the living room." She said, leaving them standing at the door.

Brendan sighed, leading Ste inside. Paddy was on his playstation when they arrived, glancing up and grinning brightly before being distracted by a hit from his game. Declan was in the corner, texting. He strode over to them when they entered, hugging his dad tightly and patting Ste happily on the shoulder.

For the most part Ste stayed out of Eileen's way. Brendan left him with the boys for a while to speak to her and Ste took the chance to play with Paddy; it wasn't easy to bond with a teenage boy. Once Ste proved himself as a useful player however, Paddy warmed to him immensely, telling his mum that Ste should visit more often.

Eileen smiled tightly, nodding at Ste in what he hoped was acceptance, however begrudging.

They declined the invitation to stay for dinner, much to Eileen's relief. Their flight was that evening and Brendan said they were going to grab something small from the airport.

"This one gets travel sick anyway." He said with a grin, looking over at Ste.

"Shut up." Ste flushed, feeling Eileen's eyes on him. When he glanced up she was wearing an amused smile, this time not at his expense.

"You haven't told him about the time we went on the ferry to France then? Sick as a dog, this one."

"Wouldn't even eat his chips." Declan chirped in.

"The waves were choppy." Brendan said defensively. Ste hid his laughter behind his hand, attempting to look sympathetic.

They left in good spirits, Declan making them promise to skype him later. Brendan looked at him in utter confusion. Ste laughed and said he'd explain later.

True to his word, they picked up some fast food at the airport before their flight, Ste flicking some chips Brendan's way and grinning at him. It felt as though they'd been gone forever but in reality it was no more than a week. Ste had called ahead to let Sam know they were returning and his response had been muted. Ste hadn't wanted to broach the topic of Brendan moving in over the phone; he wasn't sure how Sam was going to react.

Ste dozed on the flight home, tucked under Brendan's arm comfortably. Brendan had bought him an ipod from the duty free on their way to Ireland and Declan had filled it with songs from his computer. Ste woke up mid-flight to Brendan sighing in annoyance.

"What?"

"Declan seriously listens to this stuff?" Brendan wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Not all of us like Johnny Cash, Bren."

"Still." Brendan took one of the headphones from his ears, dangling it on one finger. Ste swiped it, placing it into his own ear for a listen.

"This one's alright." He said, bouncing a little in his seat.

Brendan grunted, settling back and closing his eyes.

They arrived in England at eight o'clock. Both of them were dazed as they stepped out of the plane, Ste stretching and yawning like a cat. They took a taxi back to the village; Brendan hadn't wanted to bring his car and pay for it to remain in the car park. It was a good thing too, considering how much longer they had stayed over there.

Ste opened the door to the flat and was met with darkness as they stepped through the door.

"Dad must be at work still." He said, turning a few lights on. "You want a brew?"

"Yeah." Brendan collapsed onto the sofa, leaning his head back against the rest. "I'll have to go back to mine soon though, run out of clothes."

Ste walked to the sofa, carrying two cups of tea. "Might be best anyway, I better talk to dad myself."

"About us moving in together?" Brendan asked lightly, sipping his tea. It was almost comical, seeing him like this and knowing all the things he'd been capable of in the past. "What?" Brendan paused, aware that he was missing something.

"Nothing." Ste smiled around his own cup. "So… did you want to move in here?"

"Was that not the plan?"

"Well I don't know. You just got your old place back."

"So?"

"So… it's yours, you might wanna keep it."

"It's just a place, Steven. I know where home is and it ain't there anymore."

"Oh." Ste blushed, leaning back into the sofa and wincing. "Ow, I'm still tender from the other night."

"Me too." Brendan admitted, unconsciously putting his arm around the back of the sofa where Ste sat.

"I think I'll run myself a bath." He said decisively, putting his cup down and standing up. "You wanna come?"

"In the bath? Sure. Won't old Sammie be annoyed though when he gets back?"

"You don't have to get _in _the bath. There's not enough room for both of us. I just meant come sit with me."

Brendan stared at him blankly. "What for?"

"I dunno, chat and stuff."

"People do that?"

"Couples do, yeah."

"Alright then."

Brendan followed him to the bathroom, eyes on him as he stripped on the way there. He heard a wince and turned, stark naked, towards Brendan.

"What?"

"Yer all bruised…" Brendan said, horrified and uncertain.

Ste glanced down at himself in some surprise. "Oh, so I am."

"Is that it?"

"Well aren't you as well?"

"Yeah but-"

Ste held up his hand. "Let's not, okay?"

He started to run the bath water, Brendan a silent and uncomfortable presence behind him. It was only when the water was full and Ste had lowered himself into the tub that he spoke again.

"I'll be gentler next time."

"No you bloody well won't be." Ste retorted.

"Steven, don't argue."

"Stop being ridiculous. We got carried away, it wasn't on purpose."

"Don't make excuses." Brendan sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"It didn't bother you the other night."

"I couldn't see how bad it was then."

"It's just a few marks from where your fingers were, that's all. And some carpet burn."

"Oh is that all?" Brendan rolled his eyes.

"Strip." Ste said shortly, sitting up and rinsing the suds from his hair.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Brendan stared at him incredulously before doing as he was told. The moment he took his shirt off Ste stopped him, tracing his fingers down his bare back.

"Marks made by me." He whispered. "And a bite on your hip."

"Why aren't we normal?" Brendan turned back to him. "We shouldn't need to mark each other like that out of some sort of… ownership."

"Says you." Ste tutted. "Are you telling me you aren't just as possessive over me as you were before?"

"Before I went to prison ye mean?"

"Yeah."

Brendan shrugged. "I'm trying to change that, Steven. Ye aren't a… possession."

"But I am yours, aren't I?"

Brendan's gaze softened. "Do ye even have to ask?"

"It's nice to hear." Ste admitted a little sheepishly.

"Then you're _mine_." Brendan crooned, sitting on the edge of the bath tub.

Ste closed his eyes contentedly, allowing the warm water to soothe his aches and pains.

"I should go." Brendan said after a while, standing up.

"Now?" Ste opened his eyes, unable to prevent himself from pouting.

Brendan smiled at him, leaning down to kiss him on the mouth. "I won't be long."

"I'll miss you anyway."

"Course ye will." Brendan answered cockily, slipping him a wink as he went out the door.

Ste heard the front door open and close and sank further into the bath, relaxed.

Xxx

Sam left work feeling disgruntled and tense. He'd wanted to get away early in preparation for Steven's return but too much had come up for him to leave. He walked into the flat, rubbing tiredly at his face. He wasn't even sure if Steven was home yet. He absently walked into the bathroom, eyes half-closed.

"Dad!" Steven's voice rang out, startling him.

"Steven!" He quickly averted his eyes but already he had seen everything. His stomach began to churn uncomfortably with dread. "I didn't know you were back already." He said quietly. It wasn't time to reveal himself yet; he didn't want to frighten Steven away.

"We got back earlier. I think I fell asleep in the bath." Steven laughed that wonderful laugh of his, stepping quickly out of the tub and reaching for a towel.

When it was safe to turn around Sam did so, trying not to let his eyes be drawn to the bite marks on Steven's neck. He'd seem them alongside the red marks on his skin, unmistakably caused by some form of violence. Sam shuddered, feeling both disgusted and terrified.

Steven stared at him, bright eyed and happy. The poor boy had never known anything other than pain and neglect. Sam suddenly had the urge to hold him close and never let go. He settled for an awkward pat on the arm and a tight grin.

"I'll go get changed and we can talk." Steven said, bouncing on tip toes out of the bathroom towards his bedroom.

Sam went out to the living room, putting the kettle on. He took a few deep breaths, seating himself on the sofa and attempting to compose himself.

Steven came back into the room, hair tousled and dressed in a thin t-shirt and jogging bottoms. He slumped heavily onto the sofa, warm and close. Sam put his arm around him, pulling him against his side.

"Missed you, son."

"I missed you too." Steven said brightly. "Got so much to tell you."

"Can't wait to hear it." Sam said tiredly. Steven stared at him in concern, jumping at the sound of the kettle steaming in preparation.

"I'll make you a coffee." He offered, a little too eager.

"Is everything okay, Steven?" Sam asked soberly, following him to the kitchen.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Steven replied, looking shifty and distracted.

"You know you can tell me anything; I won't judge."

Steven averted his gaze, absently pouring the hot kettle water into a mug.

"There was something actually." He said carefully, still unable to look Sam in the eye.

"What is it?" Sam asked, placing his hand on Steven's arm. "You can tell me."

"I was wondering if it would be okay… I mean, it's my flat I suppose but I thought I'd ask you anyway…" Steven paused, uncertain. "I want Brendan to move in."

His words hit Sam abruptly, causing the older man to start violently and making Steven lose his grip on the kettle, dropping it and spilling the boiling water onto his hand.

"Shit!" He shouted, grabbing at his wrist in agony.

Sam immediately took control, thrusting Steven's hand under a cold tap. Steven had tears in his eyes, wincing in pain. He'd already been burnt so much. Sam patted him on the back, alarmed when Steven jumped away from him.

"What is it, son?" Sam asked, urgently now. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

"No I'm-" Steven was cut off by a knock on the door.

Sam went to answer it, not taking his eyes away from Steven in the process. It was only when Brendan pushed past him hurriedly did he react to his sudden presence.

"What happened? I leave ye for two seconds and ye do this." Brendan was at his side, hand stroking the back of his neck soothingly, the other hand gently holding Steven's underneath the tap. Steven relaxed at his touch, not flinching in the same way he had at Sam's.

Sam backed out of the room, needing a few moments to himself. He went to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.

Brendan was hurting his son. It was plain to see, the evidence conclusive in Sam's eyes. The marks, the starting at loud noises, the flinching… Of course Brendan knew where to touch; he knew the areas he had harmed with his own hands. Sam couldn't believe Steven's acceptance of the fact; the way he still lit up at Brendan's presence as though he meant the world to him. It wasn't natural; he didn't know any better.

Sam peered out of his bedroom door, watching as Brendan wrapped Steven's hand in a makeshift bandage from some kitchen towels. He kissed the area tenderly as though soothing the pain away. It was Sam's job as a father to soothe, not Brendan's. More than that, his purpose was to prevent Steven from coming to any harm. With Brendan Brady in his life that was impossible and therefore he had to be eliminated.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Four

Brendan rolled over onto his side, connecting with Steven's bare back. His lips grazed his shoulder, gently coaxing the younger man from sleep.

"Hey." He murmured softly, wrapping his arms around Steven as he turned to face him. "Morning, roomie."

"Morning." Steven grinned brightly, brushing the top of his head underneath Brendan's chin. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, not bad." Brendan replied. "How about ye?"

"Great." Steven hummed in satisfaction. "Shall I make us some breakfast?"

Brendan groaned, licking his lips unconsciously. "What did I do to deserve ye, hm?"

Steven shrugged, sliding himself out of the bed and stretching himself out. Brendan watched him intently as his t-shirt rose, exposing the small wisps of hair on his stomach.

"Do you think dad will want anything?"

Brendan rolled onto his other side, away from him. He slipped on his slippers and robe, not rising with the same amount of grace Steven had.

"Brendan?" Steven questioned when he didn't answer.

"Ye best ask him." Brendan said eventually, combing his fingers through his hair in the mirror.

"Good idea."

Steven was about to bound off until Brendan caught his wrist gently, pulling him back. "Don't I get a good morning kiss?" He smiled ruefully.

"I've got morning breath!"

"I don't care." Brendan said, pulling him in closer by the waist and kissing him softly on the mouth, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. "Ye always taste right to me."

"I'm not giving you a morning blow job, if that's what you're after." Steven said, raising his eyebrows.

Brendan clapped his hand to his chest, mock hurt. "I'm offended, Steven."

"Yeah, sure." Steven slipped out of his grasp, heading for the door.

"Wait." Brendan said, taking their shared robe off and wrapping it around Steven's shoulders. "Ye looked cold." Brendan muttered when Steven gave him a quizzical look.

Samuel was already in the kitchen reading the morning paper. He glanced up, coffee in hand, as they entered the room.

"I was gonna make us some breakfast, want any?" Steven offered, already locating a pan from the cupboard.

"If it's not too much trouble." Samuel said mildly, putting his paper down once Brendan sat across from him. "I trust you slept well?"

"Like a baby." Brendan replied, taking the paper and opening it himself. "Hope we didn't keep ye up, Samuel."

"Of course not." Samuel said with a smile. "I slept perfectly well, thank you."

Brendan nodded, eyes scanning the paper for any important news. Even though he was out of the game now, it didn't hurt to be knowledgeable.

"Huh." He said as a particular article caught his eye.

"What is it?" Steven asked, laying three plates out on the table.

Brendan considered lying but then decided it wouldn't be wise to. "Walker's in here."

The silence was palpable. Samuel glanced between the two of them, confused. Steven froze mid-way between laying his knife on the table.

"Why?"

"Nothing major. Just that they're re-directing that train route; they're saying too many accidents occur there considering how secluded and unmanned it is. He's not mentioned by name."

Steven stared at him warily. "Do you think Mitzeee's seen it?"

"I hope not, she doesn't need that dredged up again." Brendan said, rolling up the paper carefully and placing it back on the table.

"Sorry to interrupt," Samuel cut in, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "But who is 'Walker'?" He said the name strangely, unpronounced and common. Brendan hid his smile behind his hand.

"He's just a bloke we used to know." Steven said unhelpfully. "He accidentally got splattered by a train." His eyes sparkled wistfully as he said it.

"Accidentally?" Samuel asked, frowning.

"Took his life, tragic really." Brendan said lightly, standing up to help Steven bring more coffee to the table.

"What was wrong with him?" Samuel pressed.

"He had some issues." Brendan shrugged.

"And how does Mitzeee know him?"

"He killed her boyfriend, Phoenix's dad." Steven said, quieter now. Previous to that revelation he'd almost seemed to be enjoying himself, sharing a secret with Brendan. Brendan was sad to see that joy fade.

"I'll talk to her later, see if she saw anything." Brendan told him, taking his wrist lightly and stroking along his pulse. Samuel followed his movements, mouth a thin, firm line.

"You'll be back to work today I assume?" He asked, re-collecting himself.

"Oh, yeah! Course." Steven said, returning to making the breakfast. "What time do you want us?"

"I only need you today." Samuel said lightly. "Until the late shift of course, if you don't mind, Brendan?"

"Ye want me to do the late shift?"

Samuel nodded. "Not a problem, is it?"

"Not at all." Brendan said reasonably.

"I have some… guests coming down specially. Thought you could help me entertain them."

"What kind of guests?" Brendan asked, not liking Samuel's tone.

"Oh, just some old associates of mine." Samuel said mildly. "It might be a late one though."

Brendan looked from Samuel to Steven, noting the down turned pout of Steven's mouth.

"Keep the bed warm for me?"

Steven nodded, saying nothing. He'd sulk for a while, that much was certain.

"I have a few things to sort out in town anyway." Brendan said. "I'll ask Anne along, if she's free."

Steven brightened a little at that. "Phoenix needed new shoes, I was gonna help her out."

"I can do that." Brendan offered. "Ye just take it easy, yeah? Yer back is still…" he trailed off at the look on Samuel's face, guarded and suspicious.

"I will." Steven said quickly, placing their breakfast down in front of them. "I'll go shower after this."

"Take your time, son." Samuel said, biting into a sausage a little too aggressively.

Brendan sat on the edge of their bed while Steven was in the shower. He looked through his wallet, noting that he was running low on cash. He needed to sort his accounts out anyway; he still had that money from the Chez Chez sale. He called Mitzeee, relieved to hear she had the day off as well. She sounded odd on the phone and Brendan was under no doubt that she'd seen the newspaper article. They hadn't spoken much of Walker's demise and Brendan was beginning to wonder if it was wise to fill her in. Better to be knowledgeable, he always thought, than to be taken by surprise.

Steven and Samuel left shortly after Steven's shower. His hair was still damp and sticking to the back of his neck. He crawled into Brendan's lap before they left, giving him a long, deep kiss.

"I'll call you on my break, okay?"

"Okay." Brendan said, listening as he went through the front door, shutting with a strange sense of finality.

Brendan showered and dressed quickly, fetching his car and meeting Mitzeee in the village.

He wound down his window as he approached her, Phoenix attached to her hand.

"Want any help?" He asked as she opened the passenger door to help Phoenix inside.

"I got it." She said, buckling him in tightly before slipping into the front seat herself. "Thanks for this, Bren."

Brendan shrugged. "No bother."

They drove along in silence for a while, Phoenix kicking his feet absently against the seat. He stared out the window, reading any signs he saw and understood. Mitzeee turned around often to beam at him.

"Good kid ye got there." Brendan said after a while.

Mitzeee turned back to him. "I know. I heard all about Cheryl's new arrival by the way. Thanks for the text." She nudged him playfully.

"Did she say what she called him?" Brendan asked with an unusual amount of trepidation.

"Brendan? Oh yes. She seemed pretty pleased with herself."

"Why did they call the baby Brendan?" Phoenix asked in confusion.

Brendan looked in his rear view mirror. "After me." Brendan told him.

Phoenix frowned. "But there's only one Brendan."

Brendan laughed. "Well, now there's two."

"How was the trip anyway?" Mitzeee asked quietly.

"Ah, eventful." Brendan answered. "I'll fill ye in later."

Mitzeee nodded, staring straight out at the road again. "I saw the paper."

"I was hoping ye wouldn't."

"I did though."

Brendan sighed heavily. "We'll talk about that too."

"Please." Mitzeee answered simply, dropping the subject for the time being.

When they got into town Brendan parked up, lifting Phoenix easily out of the car and helping Mitzeee attach his straps.

"Why do ye use these?" Brendan asked, buckling him up.

"In case I lose sight of him, it is a big place."

"Seems wrong though." Brendan said, frowning down at the little boy with his restraints.

"He loves it. He pretends to be a puppy."

"Course he does." Brendan ruffled Phoenix's hair, who simply barked at him.

They went to the bank first, sorting out Brendan's finances. He still had money that had been frozen since his time in prison. His debit card was thankfully still in date and he renewed his credit card contract.

"You planning on making big expenses?" Mitzeee asked, lips quirking at the corners.

"None of yer business." Brendan replied, not unkindly.

They went to buy some new shoes for Phoenix afterwards, Brendan insisting on treating him.

"Brendan, you can't." Mitzeee said, exasperated.

"Let me do this." Brendan told her firmly. "It's nothing, really."

Mitzeee sighed, reluctantly taking the money from him. "It's gonna be a nightmare when he eventually starts school. New shoes every year, uniform… he grows so fast."

"Samuel not paying ye enough?"

Mitzeee snorted. "Enough to get by. That money I got for that article a few weeks ago barely lasted me. I need more work."

Brendan frowned. "Was it not better to stay in America with Carl?"

Mitzeee sighed. "It wasn't for me. I didn't want Phoenix growing up there, no offence to the place."

"Never really been my cup of tea either." Brendan said reasonably.

"It's not just that. He'd have been spoiled rotten there. Carl was brilliant but I had to make my own way in the world, you know?"

"I get that." Brendan nodded.

"Maybe we'll go back one day though, when Phoenix is older."

"Sure. I've always wondered if I'll stay around here myself."

"Yeah?" Mitzeee looked up at him. "You fancy going back to Ireland then?"

"It was certainly more peaceful there, after the initial discomfort." Brendan coughed, scratching his neck absently.

"Ste enjoyed himself?" Mitzeee asked.

"Loved it. Cheryl's place is a palace. Not that he cared much about that."

"It must have been nice, just being the two of you." Mitzeee said pointedly.

"Alright, out with it, Anne."

"What?"

"I know ye have something to say so spit it out."

Mitzeee sighed, smiling a little. "It's a bit weird, isn't it? Living with Sam?"

"It's not ideal." Brendan admitted.

"Then why not kick him out? It should just be you and Ste now."

"It's not that simple, Anne. Steven wants him there."

"Ah." Mitzeee looked away, troubled. "I still don't trust him."

"Why do ye say that?" Brendan asked curiously, directing the three of them outside a café for lunch.

"He was just weird when you were gone. Short with everyone, jumping every time his phone rang."

"Maybe he just missed him." Brendan said, knowing the feeling intimately.

"Maybe." Mitzeee frowned. "Are you working tonight by the way? Sam asked me to, said I'd be a real asset with his business associates coming in."

Brendan's expression darkened. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Oh, Bren I'm sure that isn't what he meant."

"I wouldn't put it past him."

"I'm not that girl anymore." Mitzeee said firmly, wiping Phoenix's mouth with a tissue. "Want some juice, sweetie?" She asked him. Phoenix nodded happily.

They called the waitress over, making their order. Brendan leaned forwards, lowering his voice.

"Should I be worried, Anne? About these guys he wants us to entertain?"

"He's not into anything dodgy, if that's what you mean. Not like you." Mitzeee smiled apologetically.

"That's not me anymore either." Brendan said quietly. "Which brings us onto our next topic of conversation…"

Their food and drink order was brought over. Once Mitzeee had helped Phoenix begin his meal, she leaned back towards Brendan, listening intently.

"How much do ye know about that day with Walker?"

"Only what Ste's told me. That he threatened the kids so you sorted it."

"Sorted it…" Brendan trailed off thoughtfully. "Ye know what that means?"

"Yes."

"And the paper filled in the blanks?"

"For the most part, yes." Mitzeee glanced back at Phoenix but he was happily munching on his sandwich, oblivious. "What was it like?"

"Horrible." Brendan said, unable to find an appropriate means of describing it. "He wasn't expecting it, I saw it in his face. It happened so quickly."

"I wish I'd been there." Mitzeee said eagerly, then caught herself. "I mean, he did so much damage. I'm glad that in the end you were the one to finish it."

"Had to be done." Brendan said, matter-of-fact. "Still dream about it sometimes. His face, his eyes… dark with hatred." He laughed shortly. "He got a bit of hair caught in his mouth just before the train hit him. Fascinating really." Brendan stared off into the distance, both amused and horrified.

Mitzeee placed her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry."

Brendan shook his head. "I've seen worse, believe me."

"How was it, being back home?"

"Not easy." Brendan admitted, describing to her the business with Seamus' will.

"He left Ste money?" Mitzeee exclaimed incredulously. "The old git."

"Tell me about it."

"Ste did the right thing." Mitzeee said, nodding. "It's not the kind of money you want dealings with."

"I've got plenty anyway." Brendan said. "It was the principal of the thing, ye know?"

Mitzeee nodded solemnly. "They offered me compensation, for Riley. I had to take it though, it's our back up fund."

"If ye ever need any help, ye know that we will."

"I know." Mitzeee smiled, taking his hand. "It means so much, having you back."

"Likewise." Brendan said, giving her hand a squeeze.

"We should probably head back soon."

"Mm." Brendan said absently. "There was one other thing I wanted to look into first."

"Yeah?"

"It won't take long."

Xxx

"Dad?" Ste peered over the bar.

"Yes?" Sam straightened, wiping his hands on a tea towel.

"What are you doing?"

"There was a leak." Sam explained, wiping his forehead.

"Brendan can fix that you know."

"I'm perfectly capable, Steven."

"Oh, right." Ste propelled himself away from the bar, busying himself with dusting the tables in preparation for tonight.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it." Sam said, coming up behind him.

"It's fine. I just think you two have more in common than you think." Ste said, spraying some polish and holding his nose.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked with a grin.

"It reeks." Ste said, wrinkling his nose.

"Allow me then." Sam offered, taking the cloth and polish out of his hands.

Ste perched on one of the sofas, fiddling with his fingernails. "Who are these blokes coming tonight then?"

Sam looked up, mid-polish. "No one you need to worry about."

"Yeah but maybe I can help."

"No." Sam said shortly.

Ste frowned at that. "Why not? You're letting Brendan help."

"I gave Brendan a shift, that's all."

"Yeah but why that one sp-sp." Ste stopped himself, frowning again.

"Specifically?"

"Yeah, that."

"I just know he can handle himself."

"Why would he need to?"

Sam laughed. "What's with all the questions, Steven? You don't think it's a good thing for Brendan to get back into the swing of things?"

"Course it is. Are there gonna be any young blokes?"

Sam stared at him. "Not really."

"That's alright then." Ste said, swinging his legs off the sofa.

"Do you not trust him?" Sam said to his retreating back. Ste froze in place.

"Course I do." He said shortly.

"That's good, trust is important in any relationship."

"I know." Ste said, turning around. "And we have it."

"I'm glad." Sam smiled. "We'll be opening up in a few hours, would you mind giving the bar a quick once over?"

"Course." Ste said absently.

Brendan and Mitzeee came up the steps once Ste had finished tidying up. Brendan swept straight up to him, kissing him and catching him around the waist.

"Ye okay?"

"Better now." Ste smiled. Mitzeee stared at them, looking very pleased with herself.

"What's up with your face?" He asked.

"Charming!" Mitzeee laughed.

"Ste!" Phoenix piped up, opening his arms for Ste to pick him up. "You were gone."

"I know, little man."

"I didn't like you being gone."

"Aw, well I'm back now. Did you get your new shoes?"

Phoenix swung his feet happily. "Brendan got them for me."

"That was kind of him." Ste said, relaxing as he smiled at Brendan. "Did you have a nice day?"

"Yeah, lovely." Mitzeee said, taking Phoenix from Ste's arms and kissing him on the cheek. "I don't suppose you fancy babysitting tonight, Ste? Sam wants me in work."

"He does?" Ste asked, troubled once more.

"What is it?" Brendan touched his forearm gently.

"Nothing. Just you're both working and I'm not."

"Well, you're working now." Mitzeee pointed out. "So… babysitting? Yes?"

"Yes." Ste agreed, snapping back to reality. Brendan brushed the small of his back.

"How's the back?" He asked, leaning in close.

"Still a bit sore." Ste admitted, acknowledging Sam walking towards them from the office.

"Hello." He said pleasantly. "Still okay for tonight, Mitzeee?"

"Yep!" She said brightly. "I'll wear my best dress." She added with a glance at Brendan.

"Your lovely presence is all we need." Sam said smoothly.

He turned away back towards his office, Brendan's eyes trailing after him.

"You'll text me, yeah?" Ste asked, feeling anxious for some reason. Brendan looked back at him in some surprise.

"As long as the boss doesn't catch me."

"What, like you used to do with me when I texted Rae?" Ste said, amused.

"Maybe." Brendan's eyes sparkled.

"Get a room." Mitzeee rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Let's leave him to it, Bren. I still need to get ready and you can watch Phoenix while I do."

"That's me told." Brendan mumbled, giving Ste another lingering kiss before departing.

The rest of Ste's shift passed by uneventfully. He noticed that Sam closed off an area of the club as VIP. He asked for Ste to prepare some drinks on trays ready for opening time.

"They're coming a bit early, aren't they?"

"Better to be ready, son." Sam told him. "You can get off if you like. What are you up to tonight?"

"Babysitting Phoenix." Ste said, shouldering his hoodie back on.

"You sleeping at Mitzeee's then?"

"Oh, I don't know." Ste said. "I best check. If you think these blokes are gonna be early though…"

"I really don't know, son. You know what these official types are like."

"Official? What are they exactly?"

Sam laughed. "You're acting like they're from another planet!"

"Maybe they are." Ste shrugged. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay." Sam patted him on the shoulder. "See you later."

It was still faintly light outside when Ste exited the club. People were already beginning to queue up. He went up to Mitzeee's, greeted by Brendan at the door.

"She's just doing her make up." He told him, offering him a drink when he sat down.

"Thanks." He said, taking the can. "You okay? Did you have a good chat?"

"Yeah." Brendan said, sitting beside him and pulling him in close to his side.

"It must feel good, having someone else to talk to." Ste sipped his drink.

"What do ye mean? Besides ye?"

"Well, yeah. You can't just talk to me, can you?"

"It wouldn't bother me."

"Maybe not." Ste said heavily, leaning forwards. Brendan's hand was at his neck, stroking and soothing.

"Ye seem stressed."

"No, I'm fine." Ste said, biting his lower lip. "You will remember to text me tonight, won't you?"

"Of course I will. What are ye so worried about, hm?"

"Nothing really." Ste said vaguely. "First proper night apart, init?"

"Yeah." Brendan said softly. "Ye will be alright on yer own here, won't ye?"

"I've got Phoenix."

"Ye know what I mean."

"No one to worry about anymore, remember?"

"Right." Brendan agreed, kissing the top of his head for a long moment. "Ready, Anne?"

"Coming!" She tottered out of her room in high heels, bright pink dress and shoes, clutch handbag to match. "I've left you some pizza in the freezer if you get hungry." She told him. "I've just got him off to sleep, he should be fine. If you need anything, call me. Or come to the club."

"We'll be fine." Ste said, ushering them out of the door. "You two have a good night."

"We'll try." Mitzeee said, kissing him and getting lipstick on his face. "We'll come back for you if you're awake, okay? I've set the spare room up."

"Thanks." Ste said, waving them out the door. "See you."

"Steven." Brendan said, pausing.

"I'll be fine, go." Ste gave him his best encouraging smile which seemed to satisfy him. Next moment they were out of sight and the door clicked shut. Ste sighed, going to the freezer to get the pizza out.

Xxx

The club was in full swing, music blaring, punters chatting animatedly together. Brendan was rushed off his feet. He spied Mitzeee in the distance, chatting to customers. Samuel's eyes were on her constantly, unnerving Brendan. Their special guests arrived much later, around eleven o'clock. Sam greeted them at the door, offering them drinks and directing them to the VIP area. Brendan didn't know what kind of business they were in. Brewery? Clubs? Maybe property development? Perhaps Sam was keen to expand; the thought had certainly crossed Brendan's mind when he owned the place.

He gathered very few clues in his interactions with them. There was one man in a dark suit, older than himself, who seemed to be in charge. His eyes also settled on Mitzeee. Brendan often found himself shielding her from view, much to her amusement.

"I can handle myself, Bren."

"Do ye want me to pretend to be yer boyfriend?" Brendan asked tightly.

"Ah, that ship has sailed, my friend. HMS Britzeee. Good times." She laughed.

Brendan rolled his eyes. "Point taken. Who are they anyway?"

"No idea. But Sam seems to think they're important."

"He would."

"Oh, Bren play nice."

"Steven isn't here, why should I?"

"Because you'd be playing straight into his hands and you know it. Speaking of Ste, have you called him?"

"Shit." Brendan reached into his back pocket. Steven had sent him a message about an hour ago.

_Miss u xx_

"You look so happy." Mitzeee said wistfully. "He doesn't even have to be here for it."

"Shut up." Brendan said, pressing the call button. It went straight to voicemail. "He must have gone to sleep." He said, a little uneasy.

"Call the home phone if you're worried." Mitzeee offered, slipping away to serve someone.

Brendan was about to until Samuel called him over to the VIP area.

"Ah, Brendan! Just the man. Could you stay and entertain our guests a moment while I make a few phone calls?"

"Sure." Brendan sat down opposite the man in the dark suit, perfectly poised.

"Brendan Brady is it?" He asked, leaning forwards slightly and taking a long draught of his drink.

"The one and only." Brendan said coolly, not correcting himself when he realised how untrue that now was.

"I've heard a great deal about you." He said. "Name's Smith."

"Smith who? John?" Brendan said dryly.

Smith laughed deeply. "I like you, you're funny."

"So they tell me." Brendan said lightly. "Anything I can help ye with?"

"Now, that depends…" Smith said, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "If you're interested in our… product."

"And what might that be?"

Smith raised his eyebrows. "I think you know. As I said, I've heard all about you."

Brendan baulked, catching on. "I'm not in the game anymore."

"Is that so?" Smith raised his eyebrows.

"Promised someone I'd stop." Brendan said stiffly. "Besides, only ends in tears."

"You think? I personally find it ends in a great deal of cash."

"Got plenty, thanks." Brendan said, glancing around the dance floor for any sign of Samuel. Did he know these men were drug dealers?

"Not the kind we're talking about." Smith said pleasantly. "Thousands, if you play your cards right."

"My cards are, as ever, very close to my chest." Brendan said, rising from his seat. "Sorry to have wasted yer time but that's my final word."

"Fair enough." Smith said, nodding to his men to stand with him. "It was nice meeting you, all the same."

Brendan shook his hand, saying nothing.

Samuel returned a few moments later, staring after them.

"Scared our guests off?"

Brendan turned to him, taking in his neutral expression. "Did ye know?"

"Know what, Brendan?"

"Their line of business."

Samuel shrugged. "They're just customers, none of my business."

"Still." Brendan frowned. "Shouldn't be bringing people like that into the club."

"Thanks for the tip." Samuel said darkly, beginning to move away. Brendan grabbed his arm.

"What are ye playing at?" He asked, voice low and dangerous.

"I have no idea what you mean." Samuel said, shaking himself from his grip. "You're tired. Go home, Brendan. You're done for the night."

Brendan watched him walk away in disbelief. He was about to follow until Mitzeee put herself in front of him.

"Leave it, Bren. Go home to Ste."

"That man…" Brendan said, making a violent gesture in mid-air.

"I know. Ignore him. I'll go get our coats."

When Mitzeee let them into the flat, Steven was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. Mitzeee smiled, kissing him goodnight and slipping quietly into Phoenix's bedroom to check on him.

Brendan sat on the sofa, resting his hand on Steven's hip.

Steven shifted a little, slowly drawn back to consciousness. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yeah." Brendan said softly. "I did call."

"My phone died." Steven said, yawning. "What time is it?"

"Gone one." Brendan said. "Wanna go to bed?"

"Sure." Steven sat up, leaning heavily against Brendan. "Did you have a good night?"

"Not too bad." Brendan said. He put his arm around Steven's waist as they went to the spare bedroom.

Steven collapsed onto the bed, eyes closing immediately. "Sorry. Blow job tomorrow, maybe?"

Brendan chuckled, taking the covers off and placing them back over the two of them. "I'll hold ye to that."

"Thought so." Steven smiled a little in his sleep. "Love you, night."

"Ye too." Brendan said, smoothing his hand through his hair and listening to Steven's soft breaths as he drifted off to sleep once more.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Five

Brendan was woken up by someone sitting on his chest, poking him in the face. He grunted, shifting a little and dislodging them. Steven was still beside him in the bed, snoring softly.

"Wake up!" Phoenix demanded, jumping up and down on the bed. "Mummy's made us eggs on toast!"

Brendan's stomach grumbled at the thought of breakfast, prompting him to sit up, rubbing his sore head.

"What time is it?"

"Gone ten." Mitzeee said helpfully from the doorway. "I thought I'd let you sleep in but this one wouldn't hear of it." She gestured for Phoenix to get off the bed. "I'll give you a minute." She said, slipping him a knowing wink.

Steven was only just reaching a conscious state. He snuffled a little in his sleep and Brendan touched his face gently.

"Steven," He said, feeling his forehead. "Ye are really warm."

"Mm?" Steven rolled onto his back, blinking his eyes open. "What?" He said groggily.

"Ye don't normally snore." Brendan said worriedly.

"I feel a bit…" Steven sat up carefully, holding his head. "Oh no."

"What?"

"Excuse me a minute." He said, jumping out of bed and stumbling towards the bathroom. Brendan followed him hastily, slipping Mitzeee a look on his way.

"Steven?" Brendan asked through the door. Mitzeee was beside him, holding a spatula. "Can I come in?"

Steven groaned a little. Brendan could hear him retching.

"I'm coming in." Brendan warned him.

Steven was slumped over the toilet seat, resting his forehead against the cool porcelain. He looked up at Brendan as he entered, eyes red and mouth slick with saliva. Brendan knelt down beside him, rubbing his back and feeling his forehead once more.

"Did ye feel sick yesterday?"

"I was knackered after my shift and threw most of my pizza in the bin." Steven admitted. "But after I texted you and my phone died I fell asleep so…"

"Sounds like a bug, probably a twenty four hour thing." Mitzeee said from the doorway. She was holding a wet flannel and a bucket. "Help him back to the bedroom. He isn't going anywhere today."

Brendan helped him rinse his mouth out first with some toothpaste, keeping a secure arm around his waist. He guided him back to the bedroom carefully, Steven groaning, eyes half closed. Phoenix followed them, looking cowed and apologetic.

"Is it because I woke you up?" He asked in a very small voice.

"Hey," Brendan bent down to his level, speaking softly. "Of course not. People get sick, just happens. He'll be fine soon enough."

Phoenix nodded sadly. "Do you still want your eggs on toast?" He asked.

"Definitely. Load me up a plate, yeah? Maybe ask Mummy to get Steven some dry toast?"

Phoenix brightened at the prospect of being helpful and trundled off back to the kitchen.

Brendan propped some pillows underneath Steven's head, elevating him. Otherwise he felt suitably useless. Eileen had always taken care of the boys when they were sick. When Brendan had been ill as a boy, Seamus had always left him well alone. Perhaps there were boundaries even he wouldn't cross.

"Bren?" Steven croaked, reaching for him. Brendan sat on the bed, taking his hand. It was warm. "I don't like being sick."

"No one likes being sick, Steven."

"It scares me." He admitted hoarsely.

"No need to be scared." Brendan said, laying on the bed beside him.

Steven smiled. "I bet you never get sick."

"Try not to." Brendan said honestly.

Steven frowned at him. "Because of Seamus?"

Brendan shifted a little. "I guess. Better to not be vulnerable."

"Yeah." Steven said, leaning his head back on the pillows. "When I was sick my mum just sorta left me to it. Terry just went off to pub. No entertainment when he couldn't beat me black and blue."

Brendan winced, shuffling that little bit closer to him.

Thankfully Mitzeee came into the room then with breakfast. She put Brendan's on the bedside table, probably concerned the smell would send Steven heaving into his bucket once more. She passed Steven his dry toast.

"Ugh, don't think I can eat that."

"It'll help." Mitzeee said, placing a glass of water by the side of him. "Small sips."

"Here." Brendan broke the pieces of toast into small quarters, vaguely remembering Eileen doing the same for Declan once. "Makes it easier to get through." He said, not knowing if he was talking rubbish.

Steven nibbled on one corner gingerly.

"Want me to call the doctor?" Mitzeee asked.

"No, I'll be alright." Steven said, attempting another small bite of toast. "You eat, Bren. You look starved."

"Ye sure?"

"I might rest my eyes a moment anyway." Steven said, putting the toast beside him on the bed.

"I'll just be outside, okay?" Brendan said, kissing him on his fevered forehead.

He left the door slightly ajar as he followed Mitzeee out of the room.

"Poor thing, he looks so rough." Mitzeee said sympathetically, making Brendan a coffee to go with his breakfast.

"Thanks." Brendan said, taking the offered mug. "I don't even know if I can eat this now."

"I know what you mean; hearing someone vomit puts me off my food too."

"That doesn't bother me." Brendan said.

"Aw, is it sympathy pains? Do you need a bucket too?"

"Don't be cute." Brendan replied, exasperated at her smile.

"He best stay here till he's better; I don't fancy moving him and I bet you don't either."

"Not particularly, no."

"Someone should call Sam."

Brendan put down his fork heavily. "What for?"

"To let him know where Ste is?"

"Seriously?"

"He's still his dad, Brendan. I'll do it if you want."

"It's fine." Brendan said with a sigh, taking out his phone. The home phone rang three times before Samuel answered.

"Hello?"

"It's Brendan." Brendan said shortly. "Steven's sick. He can't come to work today."

Samuel paused on the other end. "Where is he?"

"Anne's."

"Is he okay?"

"Sleeping it off."

"I see. What seems to be wrong with him?"

"Are you a doctor now?"

"No. I am his father though."

Brendan rubbed his temple in agitation. "He's been sick, has a fever. Woke up like it."

"Are you keeping him warm?"

"Didn't ye hear me? He has a fever."

"Sometimes best to heat the fever straight out. He has a thick blanket here, I'll bring it over."

"There's no need-"

The phone cut out abruptly. Brendan resisted the urge to throw it against the wall.

"He's coming over, wonderful."

"Finish your breakfast then." Mitzeee told him. "One of us needs to work today anyway." She added, finishing off her coffee. "Want me to pick anything up while I'm out? I have to take Phoenix to nursery first but I pass a few shops on the way."

"I don't know. What do sick people need?" Brendan asked, clueless.

Mitzeee smiled wryly. "Whenever Phoenix is sick I run him a bath, soothes the tummy. I make a big fuss of him and take his mind off it with stories and Teddy Musical."

"Teddy Musical?" Brendan asked wearily.

"Sure! You line up your teddies, get them to perform like they're in a musical. It's great fun."

"Somehow I don't think Steven's the musical type…"

"Who do you think came up with the idea?" Mitzeee said with a smirk.

"I'll bear it in mind." Brendan said, finishing off his breakfast.

"Sam might be right though, heating the fever out. I'd go with the bath idea." Mitzeee said, calling Phoenix from his room.

"Bye, Brendan!" He said, waving happily. "Look after Ste for me."

"Will do." Brendan promised, already edging back to the bedroom.

"Don't forget to let Sam in." Mitzeee reminded him with a look.

"Where's the dead bolt?" Brendan asked. "Joking. See ye later."

Steven was shivering now in his sleep; his eyes rolling erratically beneath his eyelids. Brendan sat on the edge of the bed, gently placing the cold flannel across his forehead. He relaxed a tiny amount, settling back into sleep.

"Doesn't need a fucking blanket." Brendan murmured to himself. He went in search of a fan in the flat, plugging it in and positioning it towards the bed. Once he'd accomplished this, there was a knock at the door.

Samuel let himself in when Brendan answered. He was carrying a blanket, some magazines and soup in a large bundle.

"Where is he?"

"Spare room." Brendan said, following Samuel towards it.

Steven was awake now, body half out beneath the covers. He smiled when he saw Samuel.

"Hey, Dad." He said croakily. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see you." Samuel said, positioning himself on the edge of the bed. "You need anything?"

"Water would be nice." Steven replied. Brendan reached for it before Samuel could.

"I'll get ye a straw." Brendan grumbled, exiting the room. Thankfully Mitzeee kept straws, for Phoenix Brendan supposed. He picked out a bright pink one, wanting to make Steven laugh. When he went back into the room, Samuel was reading a magazine to Steven. His eyes were bright and clear, interested in what Samuel was saying. Brendan put the straw into the glass, helping Steven to drink from it. He didn't comment on the colour.

"What's that yer reading?" Brendan asked, sitting on the other side of the bed.

"Just the comic strips; Steven's a fan of the classics."

"Is he now?" Brendan shuffled closer to get a better look. He gulped visibly. "Superman?" He said with some difficulty.

"Not a fan?"

Brendan shrugged, attempting to remain aloof. "Not bad."

Steven took a sip of his drink, eyes resting on Brendan's face. Silently he was asking him if he was okay. Brendan nodded once, only just realising the way his hands had clenched around the bed covers.

"If you want to go out for a bit I can watch him." Samuel offered.

"Haven't ye got a club to run?" Brendan grunted.

"You're welcome to take over for the day. You must miss it sometimes."

"Not really." Brendan replied bluntly.

"There's no need for both of us to stay with him."

"Couldn't agree more." Brendan said pointedly.

Steven coughed a bit as the water dribbled down his chin. "Oops." He said, moping himself. Samuel attempted to help him but Steven batted his hand away. "I can do it. I'm not useless."

Samuel's hand hovered in mid-air. "Of course not, son."

Brendan felt a strange glow of satisfaction rising in him. "Ye wanna finish that toast now?" He asked, handing Steven the plate.

Steven put his hand to his stomach, shaking his head. "Maybe later."

"How about some soup? I brought chicken, your favourite."

"Thanks." Steven said, grimacing. "I think I'll only end up bringing it up though." He shivered a little, pulling the covers over himself.

"Are you cold? I'm sure that fan's not helping."

Brendan glared at him. "He has a fever."

"As I said on the phone, it's better to heat it out."

"What kind of method is that? He'll burn up even worse."

"It'll lift it, trust me."

Brendan scoffed.

"You got a better idea?" Samuel asked, growing annoyed himself.

"I think my methods are working perfectly well, thank ye." Brendan said pointedly.

"Is that why he looks like death warmed up?"

"Hey!" Steven protested, but both men ignored him.

"Ye think ye can take care of him better than me, is that it?"

"Coming from the man who beat him black and blue? I reckon so."

"Dad!" Steven exclaimed incredulously.

"I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean to say that."

"I think ye need to leave."

"I think you _both _do." Steven said angrily.

Brendan stared at him in astonishment. "Ye can't be serious?"

"I'm sorry, Bren but I can't be dealing with this right now when I feel like shit. Go for a walk or something, cool down. You too, Dad. Better yet, both of you go to work."

"No." Both men said in unison.

Steven rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I'll call if I need anything."

"I ain't leaving ye like this." Brendan growled. "Fuck that."

"Fine. Sit in the living room then. Just calm down a bit." Steven said, gesturing to Brendan's still clenched fists.

Brendan immediately unclenched them. "He has to leave too."

"Yes." Steven said, looking at Samuel.

"Alright, son. If that's what you want."

"It is." Steven laid back heavily on the pillows, closing his eyes.

Both men slipped quietly out of the room, glowering at each other. Brendan shut the door slightly after them, going out into the living room.

"We were fine until ye came round!" He snarled straight away.

"Well excuse me for trying to look after my son!"

"Oh, is that what ye call it? Upsetting him counts under that, does it?"

"I was only speaking the truth." Samuel said, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

"And that's what ye think? That I just beat him up and that's it?"

"Well isn't it?" Samuel's eyes blazed. "I can't understand why he's with you. Or why he's gone back to you so many times. All you do is hurt him and leave him."

"If we're gonna go into leaving him…"

"I didn't have a choice!" Samuel raged. "What's your excuse?"

"He was better off without me." Brendan said quietly.

"I agree with you there." Samuel said darkly. "He was doing okay until you showed up."

"Ye reckon?"

"He never got sick on my watch."

Brendan snorted derisively. "On yer watch? And how long is that exactly? How many years have you been in his life for? Was ye around when Terry was beating him up? When his mum was drinking herself into an early grave? No. Ye weren't. Fathers like you make me sick." Brendan spat his words, surprising himself with the amount of venom in them. It wasn't as though he himself could claim father of the year, and certainly his own father couldn't. He began to wonder if that was why he was so fired up in the first place.

Samuel calmed at his words, taking several deep breaths.

"I don't appreciate your insight, Brendan. You haven't been here for him either. You weren't here when he was waking up in the middle of the night screaming for you. You weren't here when he got himself blown up in that deli. You weren't here when he stopped taking care of himself properly. I might have been absent all this time but I'm damn sure making up for it now."

"So am I." Brendan said quietly.

The two men were silent for some time after that. Brendan strained to hear if Steven had stirred, praying that he hadn't heard any of that.

"I should go check on him." Brendan said eventually. When he went back to the bedroom however, the bed was empty. "Steven?" Brendan called out, panicked. "Steven?"

"What is it?" Samuel asked, appearing at the doorway.

"Where is he?" Brendan went back out of the room, knocking on the bathroom door. "Steven?"

"Go away." A small voice said from behind the door.

Brendan breathed a sigh of relief. "What ye doing in there? Didn't even hear ye get up."

"Too busy arguing about me." Steven said, annoyed.

He'd definitely heard everything.

"I'm sorry, Steven. We got a bit carried away."

Steven opened the door then, flushing the toilet behind him. He looked drawn and pale.

"You told me I wasn't a possession anymore."

"Ye aren't." Brendan insisted.

"Doesn't feel that way." Steven retorted.

"Steven." Samuel interjected.

"Don't you start either, you're just as bad. Who are you to tell me what to do? If I wanna be with Brendan, I will be. You're not the first one to warn me off him and you won't be the last. I'm sick of it. I'm a grown man, I'll do what I want to."

"Steven, I'm sorry-" Samuel cut in again, looking distressed.

"I'm going back to bed." Steven said confidently. He swayed a little on his feet, Brendan catching him easily around the waist. "If I wasn't sick I'd storm out right now."

"We'll be good, Steven. Promise." Brendan said softly, helping him back to bed.

"Shake on it." Steven insisted. "Or leave."

Brendan looked at Samuel cautiously. The older man stared back at him, face impassive.

"I'm not asking you to kiss, just shake hands and let me sleep." Steven said wearily.

Samuel held out a hand, expression giving nothing away. "Truce?"

Brendan hesitated, looking at Steven first for confirmation. "Fine." Brendan said, taking the offered hand.

"Thank you." Steven said tiredly. "I really am going to sleep now, no more noise."

"Alright." Brendan went out of the room first, Samuel a few steps behind. When they were past the door Samuel went ahead of him, turning to address him.

"I'll be watching, just know that."

"Likewise." Brendan said warningly, voice low.

Samuel nodded curtly, letting himself out of the flat. Brendan sighed, not wanting to leave Steven alone now more than ever. He slipped silently back into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed. Steven wasn't asleep yet; he lay quietly on his side.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Brendan said to the empty air. "He just drives me crazy."

Steven turned onto his other side to face him. "You do know that I love you, right? That I won't leave you?"

"Of course I know that." Brendan mumbled.

"Then why are you picking fights with him like he has something you don't?"

"He has you."

"_You _have me. Why can't you both just learn to share?"

"I don't share." Brendan said blankly.

"You need to learn." Steven sighed, expression softening. "Come here then." He opened his arms invitingly. "I won't throw up on you, don't worry."

"Wouldn't care anyway." Brendan said, slotting himself into his outstretched arms.

"I think you would."

"Well, it wouldn't be pleasant."

"And it'd smell bad."

"It does already."

"Oi, shut it."

"I was meant to run you a bath."

"Don't bother, I'm still feeling hot. Turn the fan back on."

"I don't want to move."

Steven sighed, curling further into his chest. "I don't want you to move either."

"That settles it then." Brendan placed the flannel back onto Steven's forehead. "Looks like I got my way in the end."

"How do you mean?"

"I'm looking after ye."

"Don't ruin it."

"Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry."

"S-" Brendan grinned then, kissing Steven lightly on the lips. "Least yer breath is fresh, thanks to me."

"Until I'm sick again."

"I'll be here if ye are, go to sleep."

"Oh, I can now, can I?"

"Course ye can, no one's stopping ye."

"Good because my eyes are killing me. Wake me up in an hour or two. I don't want to feel too groggy after."

"Ye have my word."

Steven snorted, rolling away from Brendan's heat in order to relax. Within moments his chest was steadily rising and falling, sleeping peacefully once more.


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Six

When Ste opened his eyes again, he was alone in the bed. He felt sticky and hot all over, the fan doing little to ease the fever on his skin. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, groaning when he registered the time.

Mitzeee popped her head around the door, smiling almost in amusement.

"Alright?" She asked, stepping further into the room.

"What do you think?" Ste said, closing his eyes. The room was far too bright. "I feel worse than I did before."

"You always feel worse before you get better." Mitzeee said knowledgeably. She went to the bathroom briefly to make the flannel cold again before replacing it on Ste's forehead.

"Where's Brendan?" Ste asked, feeling a small amount of relief at the coolness of the flannel.

"He had to pop out; he won't be long."

Ste opened one eye suspiciously. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Don't know what you mean." Mitzeee said innocently. "Here, Phoenix made this for you."

She handed him a makeshift get well soon card, written in crayon with a drawing of a sickly looking Ste on the front.

"Aw, I'll give him a cuddle when I'm better." Ste smiled, placing the card on the bedside table.

"He wants to come in and read you a story later. I had to convince him that he couldn't sleep in the bed with you tonight. He's so worried."

Ste frowned. "Tell him there's no need, I'll be on my feet in no time."

"You really are like a dad to him." Mitzeee said softly. "It means a lot."

Ste looked at her carefully. "Do you ever think about… you know. Dating again?"

"Dating? Me?" Mitzeee shook her head, golden hair tumbling about her shoulders. "You really think there's a man up to the challenge?"

"My dad likes you." Ste told her.

"Your dad? No chance." Mitzeee said uneasily.

"He does, it's dead obvious."

Mitzeee's cheeks flushed. "He's a little old for me, isn't he?"

"Maybe." Ste agreed. "But then, so is Brendan in a way and I don't care."

"That's different." Mitzeee pointed out. "You two love each other; age doesn't even come into it."

"You don't think so?" Ste sat up a little. "Do you think if we were the same age, all this would have happened?"

"What do you mean?" Mitzeee leaned in closer, intrigued.

"You know, him seducing me, me falling in love with him so easily."

"That was only at the beginning, love. It became more than that."

"I know." Ste said. "Don't get me wrong; I don't regret it. I just wonder sometimes… why me? What made him want _me_?"

Mitzeee smiled then. "Now that one's easy. Have you seen you?"

Ste rolled his eyes. "I'm nothing special."

Mitzeee snorted. "Even when you're sick you still look lovely."

"Says you." Ste countered. "But thanks."

"The curse of the beautiful, eh?" She teased.

"Do you think that's why he wanted me though? For my looks?"

"Ste," Mitzeee patted him on the nose. "You're being silly now. He loves you for all sorts of reasons."

"I guess so." Ste said. "Him and my dad won't stop arguing over me."

"Mmm." Mitzeee said, raising her eyebrows. "Now that's a tricky one. They both love you so much, but in different ways."

"Well I'd hope so." Ste laughed.

Mitzeee smiled. "From your dad's point of view, I guess he feels like he's finally got you back after all those years of fighting for you, and now he doesn't want to share."

Ste snorted. "Brendan said he doesn't share either."

"Exactly. And Brendan… well, he's trying to do right by you, isn't he? He wants to make up for lost time and mistakes. It can't be easy for either of them."

"But do they ever stop and think how I might feel?" Ste asked, exasperated.

"Of course not, love." Mitzeee grinned. "They're the epitome of alpha. Ultimately they'd want you to choose." Her eyes softened then. "But that's terribly unfair, I know."

"The choice is easy." Ste said stiffly. "But I don't plan on making it any time soon."

"You never know, maybe they will learn to share eventually."

Ste looked to the ceiling. "We can only hope."

Xxx

Brendan returned an hour later with resources.

"I went to the pharmacy, asked them what would be best for ye. They gave me this."

"Night nurse?" Ste said sceptically.

"Apparently it works wonders. It'll knock ye out cold though."

"Wonderful."

"I wasn't sure how ye would be feeling by now so I bought something simple for dinner even I could make."

"Thanks." Ste smiled easily. "You forgot something though."

"What?" Brendan appeared panic-stricken.

"A kiss." Ste puckered up, drawing a laugh from Brendan. He gave him a long kiss, brushing his palm against Ste's cheek.

"Better?"

"Much."

"Ste!" Mitzeee called from the other room. "You've got a phone call." She came tottering into the room, dressed up appropriately for work. "It's Amy." She said conspiratorially, glancing at Brendan.

"Hello?" Ste answered happily, ignoring the roll of Brendan's eyes.

"Ste! Mitzeee said you were sick, what's up?"

"Oh, just the flu I think. How are the kids?"

"Great, yeah. Looking forward to seeing you next week."

"Oh yeah." Ste said, swallowing thickly.

"You'll be better by then, won't you?"

"Course, yeah."

"And Brendan?"

Ste glanced warily at Brendan, whose expression stiffened.

"He'll be around, yeah."

"Remember what we talked about?"

"Yes." Ste sighed. "It won't be a problem."

"Good. Sam will be there too, won't he?"

"Yeah. How did you know I was here anyway?"

"Sam told me. Why are you at Mitzeee's?"

"I got sick here babysitting Phoenix."

"Ah." Amy paused then. "I best go, Ste. The kids will want their tea. See you soon, yeah?"

"Yep, see you soon."

Ste handed the phone back to Mitzeee when he was done. Brendan was staring at him steadily.

"Does she know we're together?"

"Yes." Ste said with more confidence than he felt. "She isn't exactly thrilled about it."

"But she hasn't threatened to keep ye away from the kids this time?"

"No. Leah especially is old enough now to figure out when something's wrong. Amy would never be able to explain it to her."

"She's always been very perceptive."

"She desperately wants to see you."

"Yeah?"

Ste nodded, lowering himself further into the bed. "I just hope I'm well enough by then."

"Ye will be." Brendan said. "I'll make sure of it."

"Stick our dinner on then." Ste grinned, feeling hungry for the first time all day.

"It's not much." Brendan said.

"I don't care as long as it's food." Brendan made to leave the room. "Maybe ask Mitzeee to help before she goes?"

"Ye think I can't cook?"

"No! I didn't say that."

"Ye were thinking it though."

"What, are you a mind reader now?"

"I don't have to be."

"Bren." Ste sighed, calling him back to the bed. "Help me up."

"What? No chance."

"Let me help. What have you got there? Rice?"

"I can boil some rice, Steven. Ye need to rest."

"But it's so boring in here and I'm all sticky."

Brendan raised his eyebrows, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sticky, is that right?"

"You know what I mean."

Brendan sighed heavily. "Fine. Ye have to lay on the sofa though."

"It's all I ask." Ste replied solemnly.

Brendan wrapped an arm around his waist, guiding him slowly out of the room. He was aching all over but at least the nausea was gone. Brendan placed him carefully on the sofa, making sure his legs were resting properly.

"Need anything before I start?"

"Water?" Ste settled himself comfortably against the cushions.

Mitzeee came bustling out of her bedroom, fluffing her hair. "I won't be too late tonight. You sure you'll be able to cope with both of them, Bren?"

"Hey, I'm not a kid!" Ste protested.

Mitzeee grinned at him. "Whatever you say, love."

"We'll be fine." Brendan said, allowing her to kiss him on the cheek. "Say hello to Samuel for me, won't ye?"

Mitzeee gave him a look. "Don't go burning my kitchen down, okay?"

Brendan laughed dryly, handing Ste his glass of water. "I'll save ye some."

"Err, that's okay. I can grab some chips."

"Something wrong with my cooking?"

"No! Course not."

"I'm gonna help." Ste said helpfully.

"Ah, maybe save me a bit then." Mitzeee winked.

She flew out of the door before Brendan could retort. He grumbled a little under his breath, grabbing a saucepan from the cupboard.

"Right, what do ye want with it?"

"Um." Ste pushed himself upright to get a better view. "I'm not sure how much I could manage really."

"How about I cook some sauce with it then?" Brendan offered, tipping the rice into some water.

"But you'll get hungry yourself then."

"Don't worry about me." Brendan said dismissively.

"I do though."

Brendan sighed, stirring the rice into the gradually boiling water. "I could do with eating less anyway."

"Yeah?" Ste smirked at him. "I can't see that happening somehow."

"Oi what are ye trying to say?"

"I love you, I really do, but you do eat an awful lot."

"Not recently though. Ye know what makes me hungry."

Ste raised his eyebrows. "Is that a hint?"

"Don't be soft. I won't take advantage when you're ill."

Brendan's words made Ste sit up straighter, intrigued. "Are you saying we can't…?" He trailed off, gesturing absently with his hands.

Brendan stopped cooking to stare at him. "Are ye serious?"

"Yeah. So what, no sex till I'm better?"

Brendan turned back to the oven. "However long it takes." He said tightly.

Ste gaped at him, incredulous. "You're gonna hold out on me?"

Brendan chuckled, grabbing some plates from the cupboard. "We're not having this conversation."

Ste whined a little, feeling flushed for an entirely different reason now. "That's not fair."

Brendan laid their dinner out, putting Ste's on a tray. He walked towards him, brandishing the food as a peace offering.

"It hurts me more than it hurts you."

"I doubt that." Ste said, sitting up and letting the cover on the sofa fall back from his shoulders. Brendan sat beside him, tray on his lap. "What are you doing?"

"Helping ye eat."

"Seriously?" Ste cocked an eyebrow.

"I wanna make sure ye eat it."

"Yours will get cold."

"I can always heat it up." Brendan shrugged, handing Ste a fork. "Tuck in."

Ste's stomach flipped. The portion suddenly seemed huge even though he'd seen Brendan ladle out twice as much on his own plate. He poked at it tentatively before gathering some on his fork and hastily putting it into his mouth. The food was fine but Ste found it difficult to focus on chewing.

"You know when you're hungry but your mind tells you something different?"

"No, but go on."

"I want to eat it but I can't get that same feeling." Ste explained.

"Eat what ye can." Brendan said. "If it helps, divide it up. Eat a section at least."

"Alright." Ste did as he was told, managing a good quarter of the meal.

"Enough?"

He nodded, sinking back onto the sofa. "Ugh." He groaned. "I'm sorry; I don't want to waste food."

"No waste." Brendan said, picking up the plate and going back to his own. Within minutes he'd put the remainder of Ste's food onto his own plate, heated it up, and started wolfing it down. "Not bad." He said around a mouthful of food. "Some of my finest work."

"We're all very proud." Ste said amusedly.

Brendan returned to sit beside him afterwards. Ste noticed that their bodies weren't touching. He shuffled a little closer, blinking up at Brendan through long lashes.

"What are ye doing?" Brendan asked stoically.

"Seeing how long it takes you to crack." Ste said, lips curving into a flirtatious smile.

Brendan turned away from him, looking straight ahead. "Won't work."

"I'm not that ill." Ste said, waving a hand dismissively.

Brendan arched an eyebrow. "Is that right?" He placed the back of his hand against Ste's forehead. "I guess ye aren't burning up so much now."

"See! Perfect health, me." Ste said, stifling a cough unsuccessfully.

"It's still a no." Brendan said resolutely.

Ste folded his arms stubbornly. "Normally have to fight you off with a stick." He grumbled.

"Oh that's cute." Brendan said, barking a laugh.

"What you laughing at me for?" Ste demanded.

"Sulking because I won't have sex with ye, it's… charming."

"I'll give you charming-" Ste protested, moving half onto Brendan's lap. Brendan pulled away immediately, standing.

"No." He said, very firmly.

"But I get horny when I'm sick." Ste said petulantly.

"I might break ye."

Ste snorted. "Yeah alright, paranoid much?"

"I'm not being paranoid, I'm being responsible."

Ste laughed harder then, causing him to cough uncontrollably.

"I think I'm in the cold stage of the flu."

"Is the flu not one big cold?" Brendan asked, genuinely baffled.

"You really don't get sick much, do you?"

"Nope."

"Can you at least put some Vicks on me? My nose is getting all blocked up."

"I don't know, Steven…" Brendan replied warily.

"What do you take me for?" Ste demanded. "I just want to feel better."

Brendan sighed. "Alright. Best take ye back to bed then."

"Oh yeah?" Ste grinned at him but Brendan promptly ignored him.

Ste laid himself out on the bed, chest on display. Brendan came into the room after checking on Phoenix.

"Sound asleep." He said, closing the door quietly. When he turned around, he gulped visibly. "Aren't ye cold?"

"Nope." Ste said, shifting a little on the bed. He was in his boxers and nothing else.

Brendan moved closer towards him, staring resolutely at the top of the bed and not at Ste's chest. Ste smiled to himself, holding out the Vicks in one hand.

"Go on then."

"Just below the neck, yeah?"

"And my chest. Make sure you're thorough." Ste said pointedly.

Brendan sighed, sitting as far away from him on the bed as possible. He rubbed some Vicks onto his fingers slowly.

"Ye gonna be good?" He asked.

"Course."

Brendan looked to the ceiling as though in prayer before rubbing his fingers slowly across Ste's chest. His touch was firm but not rough. He moved in a circular motion, rubbing in the mixture across Ste's chest and neck. Ste already felt his eyes beginning to water and looked at Brendan to make sure he was coping okay himself.

Brendan grunted, slicking his hands up with more Vicks and this time massaging it in with his palms. He was deeply concentrated on his task, eyes firmly fixated away from Ste's body. Ste would have felt guilty except for the hardness beginning to develop in his boxers.

"Bren…" He said throatily. Brendan gulped, Adam's apple bobbing.

"What?" He asked roughly.

"Get on top of me." Ste choked out. Brendan's gaze snapped to his face. "Better access, init?"

Ste was surprised when he didn't argue. He shifted on the bed, swinging his leg across Ste's crotch and straddling him. He didn't put any weight on him and their groins weren't touching. Brendan continued his massage without saying a word. Ste closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Brendan's hands all over him and remembering other times of a similar nature. It was only when he felt Brendan's lips at his neck that he realised he'd broken the older man. Their groins rubbed together, sending a delicious thrill down Ste's spine.

"Ye will be the death of me, Steven Hay." Brendan growled, nipping lightly at his throat.

"Not my fault you can't resist me." Ste pointed out, placing his hands on Brendan's biceps.

Brendan's hands drifted down to his waist, tugging at his boxers.

"Not gonna put any down there are you?" Ste asked coyly.

"Don't push it." Brendan murmured, pulling his boxers clean off, Ste's cock landing stiffly on his stomach. "Ye have to tell me if it's too much."

"I'm already feeling hot." Ste told him. Brendan hesitated halfway down the bed. "Not from the fever though." He said sheepishly, his earlier cockiness evaporating. It had been a while since Brendan had last touched him; he wasn't sure how he was going to react.

"Like I said; tell me if it's too much." Brendan said softly, as though reading his mind. He placed his lips against Ste's cock, a gentle caress of tongue and mouth.

Ste hissed in a breath, eyes squeezing shut.

"I've barely touched ye yet." Brendan chuckled.

"Don't stop." Ste said with some difficulty. Brendan smiled, taking Ste slowly into his mouth. "Are you gonna fuck me?"

Brendan paused, swiping his tongue across the head of his cock. "I'm not sure about that."

"Please." Ste whimpered.

Brendan frowned, uncertain.

"You can be as gentle as you like, I'll be fine."

Brendan took a moment to register his words before he continued pleasuring him. He slicked up his fingers, rubbing against his hole slowly and gently. It was almost worse to be treated so delicately. If Ste wasn't so ill he'd have been bouncing off the walls by now. A part of him also knew that he had to let Brendan treat him this way to protect the older man's conscience.

Brendan slid a finger in and Ste tightened involuntarily around it. He smiled, panting a little. Brendan kept his gaze locked on Ste's as though waiting for his cue to stop. A second and third finger went in, slowly stretching him open. The difficult part came when Brendan removed his fingers and lubricated his cock in preparation. Ste was sweating profusely and finding it difficult to keep himself focused on what was happening. Brendan stopped, stroking a wet finger down his cheek.

"We don't have to go any further." He whispered.

"I want to." Ste said firmly.

"If I get on top of ye, won't ye get even warmer?"

Ste considered this briefly. "I'll go to the edge of the bed, then you won't have to get fully on top of me."

"Ye sure?" There was a flicker of doubt in Brendan's eyes.

"Yes." Ste shifted away to the edge of the bed, watching closely as Brendan stood up and walked around to stand in front of him.

"I'll take it slow." He said encouragingly, the tip already nudging it's way inside.

"Okay." Ste said, breathing through his nose. Once he was the whole way inside, he began to relax. "That's good." He said. Brendan wouldn't move without his say so.

Brendan kept a slow pace, holding his own weight back and not putting any on Ste. He held his knee to give himself the best access and fucked him slowly with incredible care. Ste wasn't used to it being like this; he was used to it being animalistic and wild; biting and scratching and bruises from how tightly they gripped each other. Strangely he didn't mind the change of pace. Brendan leant forwards just enough to kiss him throughout, making the whole thing intensely intimate. The climax was long and excruciatingly blissful. Ste clung to Brendan when he came, head buried against his warm chest. He felt safe there in the cocoon of Brendan's body and for a moment he forgot that he was even unwell.

Brendan pulled out slowly, grabbing some tissues from the bedside table to clean them both up.

"Okay?" He asked, brushing Ste's hair back with his fingers.

"Better than okay." Ste breathed, flushed but content.

"Ye better sleep; I've probably warn ye out."

"The Vicks worked too." Ste noted, taking air through his nose. "Thanks."

"Ye should be ashamed, taking advantage like that." Brendan teased, helping Ste back into bed.

"I couldn't help myself." Ste admitted. "You'll come to bed soon won't you?"

"Yeah. Anne will be back soon; I want to make sure she gets home okay."

"Aren't you the gentleman?" Ste said, feeling sleep pulling at him. He hadn't even needed the Night Nurse.

"Only for you." Brendan said softly, kissing his forehead and leaving him to sleep.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Seven

"Hey. Hi. Steven. I shouldn't have called. I just… it's hard, ye know? Not seeing ye, not hearing yer voice everyday. That's selfish, I get that. But sometimes… I don't know, I wanna see ye, I do. I miss ye." Brendan hung up the phone and paused to take a few breaths before he called back and deleted his message. He'd done the same several times already and it wasn't getting any easier. One day he was sure Steven would answer and know it was him. Truth be told, he liked to hear his answer phone message. He remembered the day he recorded it; Brendan with his arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing him to try and distract him. Steven's voice had risen a pitch with every squeeze and it still made Brendan smile to hear it, even in these circumstances.

"Alright, Brady?"

Brendan sighed. Warren Fox: a constant irritant.

"What?" Brendan grunted, abandoning the prison phone and walking down the corridor.

"Calling your little boyfriend again?" Warren laughed, following him. Stalking Brendan was becoming a hobby of his.

"None of yer business." Brendan retorted, going back to his cell. He stayed there as much as possible these days in a bid to avoid conflict. It was almost worse, trying to do right. It made the other prisoners goad him at every opportunity. No one liked an early release; most of them viewed it as cheating, unless it was them getting out early of course.

"I have no business, you made sure of that." Warren pointed out, leaning against the open door of his cell.

"Neither of us do now. It's been taken over again, so I've been told."

"Oh yeah?" Warren's interest was piqued. "Who by?"

"No one I know. Can barely remember the name." Brendan laid out on his prison bunk. His cellmate was off somewhere, probably in the yard.

"When you get out of here, you need to get it back."

Brendan laughed, turning his head to glance at Warren. "Ye reckon?"

Warren frowned. "It's our club."

"No, it _was _our club." Brendan told him. "It's someone else's problem now."

"And is Ste someone else's problem as well? Are you even keeping tabs on him?"

"What the fuck are ye on about?" Brendan asked angrily.

Warren stared at him incredulously. "Are you telling me you have no idea what he's been up to? If he's found someone else? You're out in what, a year? Less?"

"What's yer point?" Brendan asked blankly.

"Don't you want him back when you get out of here?" Warren exclaimed, as though it were obvious.

"Aw, Foxy. Didn't know ye cared." Brendan rolled onto his side, away from him. He didn't like Warren to see his face when they spoke about Steven; a regular occurrence with Warren around.

"Someone's gotta make it." Warren sighed insincerely.

"Well, don't hold yer breath." Brendan murmured.

"Seriously? What if some other bloke has swooped in? You're just gonna let that lie?"

"It's Steven's choice." Brendan said flatly. Even saying his name aloud made his stomach twist uncomfortably. He tried to avoid saying it as much as possible but now his release date was looming ever closer, it was growing more difficult to keep the younger man from his thoughts.

"Rubbish." Warren scoffed. "If it were me-"

"It isn't ye." Brendan interrupted darkly. "So shut up."

"Alright, princess. Calm down." Warren chortled. "I can see where my advice is wasted."

Brendan said nothing, waiting for Warren to get the message.

Eventually he heard Warren's fading footsteps, music to his ears. His hands clutched something involuntarily under his pillow. A photo. Brendan wiped hastily at his eyes; he hardly realised when he cried anymore, it was like a reflex these days.

He rolled onto his back, staring at the top of the other bunk. Warren was right in some respects; Brendan _did _want to know if Steven was with someone else. He knew he couldn't do anything about it, nor did he have any right to demand anything from Steven but even so…

"Fuck sake." He cursed under his breath, launching himself off of the bunk and going back to the prison phone to record yet another deleted message.

Xxx

Ste rolled onto his side, relieved to be back in his own bed again. Brendan was sleeping shirtless beside him, chest rising and falling steadily in his sleep. Ste touched him lightly on the arm, checking if he was indeed asleep. When he didn't stir, he gingerly sat up in bed and reached for his glass of water on the bedside table.

He sipped slowly, not wanting to overload himself with liquid. He'd gotten over the nausea stage fairly quickly but his lack of food the last few days had taken its toll. He was sure he'd lost even more weight if that were possible. It was making him self-conscious; especially whenever his dad frowned at the baggy-ness of his clothes.

"Mm?" Brendan blinked open his eyes groggily, registering Ste almost immediately. "Ye okay?"

"Not bad." Ste told him, easing himself back into bed. "You?"

Brendan turned his head to look at him. "I'm not the ill one."

Ste chuffed a laugh, moving closer to rest his head comfortably on Brendan's bare chest. "I'm surprised you haven't caught anything to be honest."

"Shared enough fluids." Brendan agreed, brushing his foot against Ste's ankle.

"Are you trying to be filthy?"

"Never." Brendan said firmly, lips twitching in amusement. "Seriously though, ye feel better?"

"Much." Ste sighed, closing his eyes contently. "You going back to work today?"

"Think so." Brendan paused. "Don't really like the idea of leaving ye though."

"I'll be okay. I'll stick the telly on, have a duvet day."

Brendan groaned. "I suddenly wish I was sick too."

Ste smiled, snuggling closer. "When you get home we can have all the duvet fun you want."

"Now that's a pleasant thought to get me through the day." Brendan murmured.

"You don't sound happy about going back to work." Ste noted, wondering if it was for a different reason than simply wanting to stay with him.

Brendan grunted. "I thought that club was well and truly behind me." He said truthfully.

Ste looked up at him in surprise. "I thought you loved that place."

"Did, once." Brendan replied. "Foxy told me I should try and get it back when I got out of prison."

"You saw Warren inside?" Ste frowned. "What was he like?"

"Same old, same old." Brendan sighed. "But a familiar face made the time pass I suppose."

"I haven't asked much about what it was like." Ste said apologetically. Brendan waved his hand dismissively.

"It isn't important now. I'd rather forget it."

"Course." Ste said softly. "Anyway, you don't have to work there if you don't want to, dad would understand."

"I'll bet." Brendan muttered.

"Hey, come on. It's not been that bad working with him, has it?"

Brendan shrugged. "Last time I was there I met some clients of his."

"And?" Ste sat up a little straighter. In his ill haze he'd completely forgotten about his curiosity regarding Sam's clients.

Brendan looked at him then, frowning a little. "Has yer dad ever given ye the impression he's involved with… well, people like me?"

"People like you?" Ste repeated, confused. "Were they gay?" He asked suddenly, dread pounding through him for reasons he couldn't fathom.

"Steven." Brendan said severely.

"Oh, no, right, course not." Ste blushed. "You mean drug dealing or something?"

"Yeah." Brendan looked at him carefully.

"Not that I know of." Ste said slowly. "I mean, he's always seemed pretty against all that. I had a lot of explaining to do about my time inside."

"Hm." Brendan considered his words. "Ye talked a lot about that, did ye?"

"I told him some stuff, yeah."

"Did ye tell him about me?"

"You know I didn't."

"Right, yeah."

"What's this about?" Ste asked suddenly, growing uneasy. "Is there something I should know?"

"No." Brendan said, a little too quickly. "Don't worry about it."

Ste was about to voice how he _should _be worrying about it when there was a knock at their bedroom door.

"How you feeling, son?" Sam asked through the door. Ste felt Brendan tense beside him.

"Better thanks. We'll be out in a minute."

Brendan closed his eyes resignedly. "Here we go." He whispered.

"This conversation isn't over by the way." Ste told him, reaching across to grab Brendan's shirt from the floor. Brendan supported his waist as he did so, gently.

"Ye don't feel hot anymore."

Ste righted himself, feeling a little flushed from leaning over too far. "Good. Hopefully I can join you back at work soon then."

"Take it easy though, yeah?" Brendan said uneasily.

"Don't I always?" Ste countered. Brendan clenched his jaw, muscle twitching. "Alright, point taken. Mini-buses and fires aside, I take good care of myself." Brendan's mouth pressed into a firm line. "Okay! So I'm not great at it, but I promise I'll take it easy, okay?" Brendan relaxed ever so slightly.

"It's all I ask."

"Well, that's not true." Ste smirked. Brendan leaned forwards to kiss him softly on the mouth as if to prove Ste's point. Ste felt himself responding instantly, pressing his body against Brendan's. "You have to go." He murmured in between kisses.

"Do I have to?" Brendan sighed, moving his mouth down the length of Ste's neck.

"Yes." Ste whimpered, hands clutching the covers. "Dad's right outside."

Brendan groaned, withdrawing from Ste's space. "Okay. Later though, yeah?"

"Yes." Ste nodded, resisting the urge to instigate a parting kiss.

Brendan insisted that Ste remain in bed while he got ready for work. He left the door open when he went to the bathroom and Sam entered the room in his absence, perching on the edge of the bed.

"Sure you're feeling alright? I can stay with you if you need me to."

Ste smiled at him. "I'll be fine, Dad."

Sam returned the smile, albeit sadly. "I missed out on being a dad to you when you're sick. This has been kinda nice in a way, looking after you. Not that I want you to be ill." He grinned apologetically.

"I know what you mean." Ste reassured him. "I appreciate it too, both of you." He glanced up when Brendan re-entered the room.

"We should let you rest." Sam said tightly, standing up and sparing a look at Brendan.

"I'll meet ye there." Brendan said, not looking at Sam. Sam nodded briefly before leaving the room.

"Be nice." Ste said warningly.

"I'm always nice, Steven." Brendan grinned, grabbing his phone and keys. "Call if ye need anything. I'll send Anne round later."

"I'll be fine, Bren." Ste sighed, shaking himself at the sense of déjà vu enveloping him.

"Alright." Brendan gave him a hard look. "Make sure ye eat something."

"Yes, alright." Ste rolled his eyes. "Go on, get lost."

Brendan smiled bashfully making Ste's toes curl in delight at the sight of it. He brushed his hand through Ste's hair, mussing it the way he liked it. Ste watched him leave the room with regret he tried to disguise. Once he was alone he swung his legs out of bed, tottering carefully towards the living room.

He spent most of the morning watching television, eventually going back to the bedroom to locate a shirt to wear. He chose one of Brendan's, unwashed, and enjoyed the smell of him around him. Amy called at around midday asking if he was well enough for the kids to visit in two days time. Ste told her he wouldn't miss it for the world.

"Remember what we agreed, Ste. Brendan can see the kids as long as Sam is around."

Ste gritted his teeth, biting back what he really wanted to say. "Fine. Whatever."

Amy had been quite taken with Sam when she'd first met him. She'd deemed him a good influence on Ste and was thrilled at the prospect of him having a decent parental figure. Ste understood her concern; she'd been the one to witness Terry's violent outbursts and Pauline's incessant drinking.

Ste was pleased they got on so well but he daren't tell Brendan Amy's conditions. He could imagine his expression now; the anger he would feel underneath the hurt. Ste still hoped that one day the two of them could come to an understanding but he wasn't entirely hopeful.

When Mitzeee visited him later that day with Phoenix, Ste off-loaded some of his anxiety about Amy's visit.

"I'm scared she's going to kick off."

"But she knows you're together?" Mitzeee asked, cutting up Phoenix's apple for him at the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, doesn't mean she won't kick off about it though."

"Brendan told me the last time she was here she took the kids away from both of you." Mitzeee said sadly. "Are you scared she'll try that again?"

"I dunno, time's a great healer and all that." Ste said, not feeling confident.

"Does she know what Brendan went to prison for?"

"Yes." Ste said tightly. "I could hardly tell her the truth though, could I?"

"No." Mitzeee pursed her lips together. "How's Brendan going to take it though? All that judgement, Sam being the big cheese, so to speak."

"I don't know." Ste said heavily, leaning against the oven. "What do you think I should do?"

Mitzeee smiled apologetically. "Hard to say, love. I guess you'll just have to keep them out of each other's way as much as possible."

"Yeah." Ste said sadly, glancing over at Phoenix who was rolling around on the sofa.

"When are they coming?" Phoenix asked happily.

"Day after tomorrow." Ste told him, taking the plate of apple slices from Mitzeee and handing them to Phoenix. "You excited?"

"Yeah!" Phoenix said, popping a whole slice into his mouth. "Will Brendan see them too?"

"Course." Ste sat beside him, allowing Phoenix to feed him some apple.

"You look small." Phoenix frowned at him, giving him another slice.

"He's got a point you know." Mitzeee said knowledgeably. "How much weight have you lost?"

Ste shrugged self-consciously. "Don't you start."

"I'll make you some lunch." Mitzeee told him. "Don't want Amy thinking you're being neglected."

"I'm not a kid." Ste said petulantly.

"I know that." Mitzeee said, fishing out some eggs from the fridge. "We just worry about you."

"There's no need." Ste sighed, allowing Phoenix to rest his legs on his lap.

"What does Brendan eat?" Phoenix asked, blinking up curiously at Ste.

"Anything." Ste said, with an exaggerated whisper.

Phoenix's eyes widened. "Anything?" He repeated, awe-struck.

"Yep, you name it, he'll eat it." Ste grinned.

"What about you? Does he eat you?" Phoenix asked, entirely innocent. Ste's eyes widened, glancing over at Mitzeee who had to stuff her fist in her mouth to prevent herself from giggling.

"No, not _really _anything. Just food, not people."

"That would be icky." Phoenix said, wrinkling his nose and attempting to nibble his arm.

"What's this nursery you're sending him to?!" Ste asked as Mitzeee returned to the sofa with eggs on toast for Ste.

Mitzeee laughed, ruffling Phoenix's hair. "He's just curious, that's all. He takes things very literally."

"I can see that." Ste said amusedly, cutting his toast into smaller, manageable bites.

"So they've both gone to work then?" Mitzeee asked conversationally.

"Yep."

"How long until they kill each other?"

"Oh, don't." Ste groaned. "Try living with both of them."

"That bad?"

"Put it this way: everything is a power trip. Who gets to use the bathroom first, who makes me breakfast, who's taking care of me the best. On their own it's fine, but together…" Ste trailed off, shaking his head.

"If it ever gets too crazy, you know where we are." Mitzeee gestured to herself and Phoenix.

"Thanks, I might just do that."

"It's only because they care." Mitzeee said softly.

"Too much, sometimes." Ste said plainly. "Anyway, where are you two off to today?"

"The park. Wanna come?"

"Please." Ste put his half finished lunch on the table.

"When you've finished that you can." Mitzeee said sternly.

Ste looked at her blankly. "You aren't serious?"

"She is." Phoenix warned him. Mitzeee crossed her arms defiantly.

"Oh, alright." Ste rolled his eyes, picking the plate up again. "Then some fresh air will do us all good."

"And if not, we have two knight's in shining armour for you." Mitzeee teased.

"Cheers for that." Ste replied, swallowing another bite.

Xxx

"Brendan, do you mind doing a stock take for me?" Samuel handed him the appropriate paperwork.

"Sure." Brendan took it from him. "Could do it in my sleep."

"Yes, I looked over your books." Samuel raised his eyebrows.

"What?" Brendan was immediately on the defensive.

"Were you quite distracted working here?" Samuel asked calmly.

"I didn't always do the books; Joel and Cheryl did it sometimes."

"I see." Samuel replied.

"What are ye trying to say?"

"Oh, nothing. They're just a little all over the place, that's all."

"Different management." Brendan said tightly.

"Of course, what else could it be?" Samuel smiled, walking away from him.

"I suppose yer son was pretty distracting." It was a low blow but Brendan was past caring. Samuel paused, turning back.

"Is that right?"

Brendan stepped into his personal space, lowering his voice. "Most definitely." He'd missed this feeling, of power and control. Samuel didn't waver, didn't blink.

"And now?"

"Even more so." Brendan said quietly. "Especially back in that uniform."

"I personally found the uniform tacky but Steven insisted."

"My sister chose the uniform."

"From what I've seen, that sounds about right."

Brendan nearly lost it then but he knew what Samuel was trying to do. "Ye just want me to hit ye so ye can run home and tell Steven."

Samuel smiled. "Is that what you think? The fact it would even cross your mind…"

"I'm not that person anymore."

"Really? So my Steven hasn't still got faded bruises on his skin? No?"

Brendan blinked, caught off guard. "What are ye talking about?"

"I'm not stupid, Brendan." Samuel said, angry now. "I know what you're doing and I won't accept it."

"Ye don't know anything." Brendan said slowly.

"I know I need you out of my son's life." Samuel said, controlling his emotions once more.

"I had a feeling this was coming." Brendan replied grimly.

"Let's just see who Steven turns to when it all goes sour. The man who beat him black and blue or his doting father."

"The doting father who abandoned him." Brendan hissed. "Ye don't have a fucking clue what Steven needs."

"He is my blood, that's all that matters."

"Believe me, blood is nothing when it comes to men like you." Brendan said with absolute conviction.

"Men like me? You mean a father? What kind of father did you have, Brendan?"

Brendan froze. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you killed your dad, didn't you? You have no right to lecture me on parenting. What did your dad do, huh? Look at you funny? Is that what Steven did? Are you gonna kill him too someday?"

"Shut your mouth." Brendan emphasised each word. He could feel the familiar feeling of control leaving him. His palms began to sweat, his skin flushed with heat and adrenaline. He kept trying to picture Steven in his mind but everything was becoming distorted.

"Have I touched a nerve, Brendan?" Samuel sneered.

"Ye need to get out of my face right now." Brendan warned him. He could feel himself beginning to shake.

"Or what? You don't scare me, Brendan Brady. Mark my words: Steven will see you for what you really are someday. It's a dark path for men like you. Perhaps you'll even join that father of yours, huh?"

The red mist descended. Brendan felt as though he'd been lifted out of his body. He launched forwards, knocking Samuel to the floor, fist raised. He wanted to feel his hand connect with flesh, draw blood. He was still shaking as he pulled his fist behind him, Samuel's goading face staring up at him triumphantly.

And suddenly a sense of recognition hit him. He could see Steven's features in Samuel's face. Samuel wasn't afraid but Brendan remembered a time when Steven had been. He remembered the way Steven had cowered the last time he had hit him, the way the blood dried on his face, the fear and disappointment shining through. Brendan suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He lowered his fist.

"Brendan?"

Brendan looked up sharply. Steven was at the top of the stairs, staring at him in horror.

"It's not how it looks." Brendan said quickly, getting up off the floor and away from Samuel.

Mitzeee came up the stairs then, Phoenix in her arms. She took one look at Brendan's poise and Samuel on the floor and closed her eyes.

"I didn't touch him." Brendan said. "Ye have to believe me." He looked at Steven imploringly, willing him to trust him. Steven looked more shocked than anything.

"It's okay, son." Samuel said, standing up slowly. "I'm okay."

Brendan daren't look at him. He wasn't sure he could control himself twice.

"Listen to me." Brendan took a step forwards. Steven visibly flinched. The battle was already lost then, for Brendan. Without another glance, he was straight out the balcony door, his knuckles unclenched by his sides.


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Eight

Ste remembered the feeling of wiping blood from his face, of sitting down carefully to avoid wincing in pain. He remembered the physical bruises of attack and the way he would walk around, shrunken in on himself in shame. He wasn't that person anymore. He wouldn't allow himself to be. The distressing part was however, neither was Brendan.

Ste had barely moved since Brendan had left the club. He could feel Mitzeee's hands on him, guiding him to a chair. He felt numb. His dad was kneeling in front of him, hands against his knees, asking him if he was okay. Ste could hear a ringing in his ears and only that amidst the distorted voices around him. He gulped a few times as though he couldn't find air. Eventually he managed to speak.

"I need to go find him." He said roughly, beginning to feel himself return to normal.

"What?" Sam's face swam into his line of vision, horrified and concerned. "Did you see what he did?"

"With all due respect, he didn't do anything." Mitzeee said quietly beside him.

Sam stared at her in disbelief. "If you hadn't of come in he'd have battered me."

"I don't believe that." Mitzeee said firmly, standing up and taking Phoenix by the hand. "Excuse us, Ste."

Ste nodded vaguely, trying to register her words.

"Steven," Sam leaned forwards once they were gone. "You can't go back to that man. You know what he's capable of."

"I've always known that, never stopped me before." Ste said distantly.

"It's different now. He…" Sam trailed off, biting his lip. "I'll take you home. We'll talk about this."

"No."

Sam sat back on his heels, letting out a long breath. "What do you want to do?"

"I told you; find him."

"And what will that achieve?"

"He'll be hurting." Ste said, voice scratchy and unclear. "He'll think that's it."

"Isn't it?" Sam pressed, eyes blazing with ferocity.

"No." Ste let out a breathy laugh. He looked up then, fixing his gaze with Sam's. "I'll come back. I just need to find out what happened, that's all."

"Steven, I don't think-"

"My choice." Ste insisted, standing up. "You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly well." Sam said grimly.

Ste shook his head. "I'll see you later."

He ignored Sam's protests, going straight out of the club door and down the steps. He wasn't sure where Brendan would go to lick his wounds. It was possible he'd already left the village and if that was the case Ste had no hope of finding him. Deciding to work on gut instinct, he went straight home. He knew it was a sanctuary to Brendan in a way his old place never could be now.

"Bren?" Ste opened his door quietly, eyes darting around the corner into the living room. Silence. He walked quickly through the hallway to their bedroom, opening the door a crack. There was a lump underneath the covers. Ste sighed with relief, pulling the duvet back enough to get in himself, replacing it over their heads when he was fully covered. "Bren?" He repeated.

The older man was hunched in on himself, breathing hard with red, puffy eyes. He didn't seem to see Ste at first but when he did he simply stared at him, waiting for Ste to talk.

"What happened?" Ste asked, voice low as though he were speaking to a child.

"Samuel." Brendan said croakily. "Where is he?"

"Not here." Ste replied, shuffling closer. "What happened?" He asked again.

Brendan closed his eyes. "Nothing. Nothing happened."

"It didn't look like nothing."

Brendan opened his eyes again. They looked impossibly blue. "He wound me up… said things. I… lost it."

"I thought as much." Ste sighed.

"I didn't touch him, Steven. I stopped."

"Because we came in?"

"No! Because I thought… I remembered you."

"Me?"

"I never used to remember, afterwards." Brendan said vaguely. "When I hit ye, I just sort of blanked it out, ye know? But it came back to me then and I realised… I realised the damage I could do. I didn't want to do it again."

"And you didn't." Ste told him.

"I could have." Brendan whispered. "I'm sorry."

"What did he say?" Ste said, ignoring his apology.

"The usual, ye know…" Brendan looked to the top of the duvet still covering them. "That he wants me away from ye, that ye won't choose me."

"He said I won't choose you?" Ste repeated, stunned.

"Not those words, as good as."

"Brendan." Ste said tightly, holding his face in his hands. Brendan was reluctant to look him in the eye. "Brendan." He said again. "Where am I?"

"Here." Brendan breathed, as though he could hardly believe it.

"Exactly."

Brendan blinked, staring at Ste like he'd never seen him before. "Ye aren't mad?"

"Of course I'm mad. I'm fuming. What else did he say?"

"My dad…" Brendan hunched in on himself even further. "He mentioned my dad."

Ste cursed under his breath. "Right, listen to me a minute. No matter what my dad says, that doesn't give you the right to batter him, okay?"

"I wasn't, I wouldn't." Brendan said hastily. "I'm not that person anymore."

"I know." Ste said, softer now. "This can't happen again though."

Brendan nodded furiously.

Ste pulled him against his body, Brendan's head cradled against his chest. Brendan began to sob, gut-wrenching cries of pain.

"I thought I lost ye."

"No." Ste shook his head, holding him tighter. "Not gonna happen."

"I haven't been dealing… with stuff."

Ste pulled away a little in surprise. "Since prison?"

"I blocked it all out in there. The psychiatrists barely got a thing out of me. I couldn't open up, I could only control myself. That's all I'm doing; controlling myself."

"Who can you open up to?" Ste asked quietly.

"You." Brendan laughed a little, humourlessly.

"Anyone else?"

Brendan hesitated then. "There was someone, once."

"Who?"

"A priest. Father Desmond."

Ste allowed this to register. It wasn't really a surprise.

"Could we find him again?"

"Do ye think he'd want to talk to a murderer?"

"Didn't he before?" Ste countered, face open and honest.

"Fair point." Brendan wiped his eyes hastily. "What happens now?"

"Nothing." Ste said simply. "We stay right here. Why did you come here anyway?"

"I wanted ye." Brendan admitted. "But I didn't know if I had a right to ask."

"You do." Ste said softly, pulling Brendan against him once more. "You really do."

Xxx

Ste waited until Brendan had fallen asleep before he moved away. His body twitched uneasily in sleep, like he was fighting some invisible pull. Ste smoothed the hair back from his forehead, kissing the skin it exposed. He heard the front door open and close quietly. Pulling the duvet back so Brendan's head remained above the covers, Ste slipped out of bed.

Sam was standing in the middle of the room, looking anxious and wary.

"Everything okay, son?" He asked quickly.

Ste closed the bedroom door behind him, sighing and straightening to his full height. He suddenly felt much older.

"This has to stop."

"I couldn't agree more." Sam responded, taking a step towards him.

Ste held up a hand. "_You _need to stop."

"Me?" Sam asked incredulously.

"If you can't accept that me and Brendan are together then you can't stay here."

"Steven." Sam was gaping at him incredulously. "I'm your father."

"Him in there, that's my life." Ste said, feeling suddenly empowered. "You need to understand that and let me live my life."

"I just want you safe." Sam told him, now frozen in place.

"I know you do. Brendan has his problems but he's working hard to get past it. You need to as well."

Sam continued to gape at him, hardly knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I do love you, you know I do. But you have to let me make my own choices. I can't be controlled, okay? I just can't."

Sam nodded numbly. "I understand. I didn't mean for things to go this far."

"Neither did Brendan, so maybe you two can work something out."

Sam nodded again, more hesitantly now. He looked intensely distressed.

"Come here." Ste held out his arms, feeling once again like the grown up in the situation. Sam bundled him into his arms, almost lifting him off the floor.

"I love you." Sam said, squeezing him tightly.

"I know you do." Ste closed his eyes. He should feel lucky, cherished, but it wasn't easy being loved by these two men. "Things will get better. Just… this can't happen tomorrow, okay? Amy would freak if she knew. She could take the kids away." His voice broke on his final words, the reality hitting him suddenly in the chest.

Sam pulled back, eyes sad. "Of course. She won't know a thing."

Ste nodded, pulling away completely and giving Sam a small grin. "I'll put some tea on, yeah?"

Sam smiled back at him. "Where's Brendan?"

"Asleep. I think today was a bit much for him."

"There's a lot I don't know, I get that now."

Ste nodded, not wanting to press it. "I'll stick the oven on."

Sam stepped back to allow him room to pass. "Things can only get better, right?"

Ste glanced over his shoulder. "I hope so."

Xxx

Brendan opened his eyes carefully, his eyelashes sticking together. They were still sore and wet from the tears that had fallen earlier. He rolled himself out of bed, going straight to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water. When he went out into the living room, Samuel was sitting alone in the dark, evidently deep in thought. He glanced up when Brendan entered.

"Where's Steven?" Brendan asked before Samuel even opened his mouth.

"Went to Mitzeee's to let her know what was going on, she was a bit upset."

"Right." Brendan sat on the edge of the chair, as far from Samuel as possible.

"You've got some people who love you there." Samuel said quietly. It wasn't said maliciously, more thoughtful. Brendan frowned at him.

"Ye aren't one of them? I'm shocked."

Samuel laughed a little, looking at Brendan seriously. "Earlier was a mistake."

"Yes." Brendan agreed, offering no more than that.

"Steven says we have to get on, otherwise that's it."

"For me or you?"

"Guess." Samuel looked away, sad smile in place. "My son clearly cares about you a great deal. I can't change that. I only ask that you allow me to stay by his side."

"That's down to Steven, not me."

Samuel looked at him again, expression giving nothing away. "Right, yeah."

"Amy's here tomorrow." Brendan said, realisation dawning on him.

"Yes." Samuel agreed wearily. "Hopefully we can put this sorry mess behind us, for the kids' sakes."

Brendan nodded, staring at his hands. "Those kids mean the world to Steven. More than either of us."

"As it should be." Samuel said, looking at him carefully. "You do anything for your kids."

"I know." Brendan said, not defensively. He was so tired. "I think I'll wait for Steven in our room."

"Brendan?" Samuel said quickly the moment he stood up.

Brendan turned back, resigned for the parting shot.

"If I said anything I shouldn't have today, it was only down to ignorance."

Brendan grunted in reply. "Alright." He said eventually.

Samuel nodded as though satisfied. Brendan wasn't sure he echoed the feeling.

Xxx

Later that evening, Sam went for a walk outside. He'd heard Steven come in and go to Brendan. After that, there was nothing. He allowed the cool night air to refresh him, a million thoughts whirling around his head.

He had meant his words to Brendan. He was beginning to wonder the details of their time together he hadn't been a part of. He wasn't sure he'd ever know the truth, about anything. Needless to say, he was still wary. Brendan hadn't said in so many words but it was abundantly clear that Sam was on thin ice with Steven and one bad word could lose him for good. Sam wondered if Brendan would use that knowledge to his advantage and get rid of him. If the ball was in the other court, Sam was sure he would have.

He decided to wait and see how things played out. He knew he had a lot of making up to do with Steven. The poor boy had seen enough violence and upset to last him a lifetime. Amy arriving tomorrow would set things right. She was a good girl. A good influence.

Sam stopped down the alleyway, resting against the wall. It was times like these he wished he still smoked. After his wife had been diagnosed with cancer he'd given up. As a tribute to her memory, he'd continued not to smoke even after her passing. It still pained him every day. He'd believed then he would be in this world on his own forever, until he'd found Steven again.

Sam leaned his head back, feeling his Adam's apple bob when he swallowed thickly. With each passing moment he became more paranoid. Maybe Brendan would do everything in his power to part him and Steven, especially now he'd seen Sam's true intentions. The doubt nagged at him, suffocating his every thought. He would have to be more careful, more subtle.

He beat his fist against the wall in frustration, wishing that things were easy, that Steven was his only priority. He laughed a little at that thought. Of course Steven should be his only priority; he was his son, his family. He had to make sure it remained that way. But as for how… he didn't know.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine

Brendan remembered every dream he had that night. It always seemed to be the worst ones that remained with him by morning. There was nothing distinctive; just the smell of tobacco and the stench of sweat clinging to the body. Something metallic. Brendan almost felt that the scent was genuine even though it was highly illogical to smell in a dream. Nightmare.

The last thing he remembered before he woke was a strange rumbling sound, of thunder perhaps. When he opened his eyes he realised it wasn't thunder at all.

"Steven," he murmured. "What are ye doing?"

"What?" Steven asked loudly, switching the hoover off. "I'm hoovering, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"Now? At this time of the morning?"

Steven grinned then. "It's ten o'clock, Bren."

"Ten? Seriously?" Brendan glanced over at the clock and sure enough, Steven was right. "Why didn't ye wake me?"

"I am now." Steven pointed out. He shrugged. "I thought you could do with the kip."

"Thanks." Brendan said groggily, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair. "What time is Amy coming?"

"Half eleven. I'm trying to get the house as tidy as possible."

"I'll help." Brendan offered, standing up.

"Go shower first." Steven said, wrinkling his nose.

"What are ye trying to say?"

"You stink!" Steven laughed heartily. He seemed nervous. Brendan touched his cheek gently, making Steven sober.

"It'll be fine."

"I know it will." Steven nodded, smiling as reassuringly as he could. "Go on, go get washed up."

Brendan sighed, heading off to the bathroom. Samuel was sitting in the living room reading the paper. He nodded at Brendan as he went past, his expression giving nothing away. Brendan couldn't think about him on today of all days.

Within half an hour he was washed and dressed. He'd worn a buttoned shirt without the jacket. He wanted to look good but not too imposing. Besides, Steven needed help with the dishes and Samuel was being less than helpful.

"She'll be here soon." Steven muttered to him as he put another plate on the drying rack.

"Just relax, everything will be fine."

Steven nodded, pursing his lips together. He jumped when the door went.

"She's early!" He scuttled to the door, smoothing his hair down. Brendan followed him at a distance warily. They both breathed a sigh of relief when Mitzeee appeared with Phoenix by her side.

"What?" She asked, paranoid. "You're looking at me funny."

"We thought you was Amy."

Mitzeee nodded and then frowned. "I'm not that skinny."

"Just get in." Steven sighed, closing the door after them. Phoenix ran to Brendan, holding up his arms for him.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his bottom lip wobbling.

"He's been so worried." Mitzeee explained, sticking the kettle on.

"What did ye tell him?"

"Just that there'd been a misunderstanding and you were a little upset."

"Well, I'm fine now." Brendan told him, giving him a smile. Phoenix returned it shyly.

Mitzeee helped Steven to dry the dishes while Brendan watched Phoenix. He sat beside him on the sofa, drawing a picture with some crayons Steven had left out for Lucas.

"Who's that then?" Brendan asked, leaning forwards to get a better look.

"That's Leah and that's Lucas." Phoenix explained. "And me."

"The wee man." Brendan smiled. "Hard to believe the last time I saw Lucas he was yer age."

"Really?" Phoenix turned around, eyes wide and awed.

"Yep. I wonder if he'll remember me."

"Yeah." Phoenix said confidently. "Why not?"

Brendan shrugged. "People move on, that's life."

"That's sad." Phoenix said.

"Not something ye need to worry about."

"No." Phoenix agreed, continuing to colour. "Mummy said that the right people stay and the wrong ones leave."

"Did she now?"

"Not counting Daddy of course." Phoenix said sadly.

"Ye really are a smart kid." Brendan said, ruffling his hair.

Phoenix grinned at him before turning back to his picture.

Amy arrived ten minutes early. Brendan had expected her to; she liked to keep them on their toes. Steven threw his kitchen towel underneath the sink, smoothing his clothes and hair down once more. Mitzeee sat beside Brendan on the sofa with Phoenix and gave his leg a reassuring squeeze.

Samuel, who hadn't said a word all morning, jumped up out of his seat promptly to greet Amy by the door. Brendan rolled his eyes at this, drawing a smile out of Mitzeee.

"Sorry we're early!" Amy's voice rang through the tiny flat. Brendan closed his eyes, bracing himself. He stood up once they were through the door. The first person he saw was Lucas, blond hair longer than he remembered and certainly taller but other than that he looked almost the same. Samuel bent down to his level, scooping him into his arms.

"Granddad!" Lucas said happily, flinging his arms around his neck. Mitzeee took Brendan's hand.

Amy walked in next, eyes immediately falling on Brendan. Her smile from greeting Steven faded. She daren't say anything in front of the kids, Brendan knew that. Instead she greeted Mitzeee and Phoenix pleasantly enough and then turned back to Samuel.

"He's really missed you." She told him with a smile.

"Aw, we've really missed him too. Haven't we, son?"

Steven came through the door then, Leah wrapped around his waist. Like Lucas, there was something fundamentally recognisable about her. She had grown in height and her hair was very long, almost as long as Amy's had been from the pictures Brendan had seen of her and Steven as teenagers. She was wearing more grown up clothes now and seemed to carry herself differently. The minute she smiled however Brendan knew it was the same Leah who had proclaimed him "Daddy Brendan."

Her blue eyes fell on Brendan too, just like her mother's had. Instead of her smile disappearing however, it grew in size.

"Brendan!" She squealed, disengaging herself from Steven and running towards him. "You're back!"

Brendan was almost bowled over by the strength of her embrace. She came up to his chest now.

"Here to stay." Brendan murmured. Amy looked at him carefully, expression guarded.

"I really missed you." Leah gushed, pulling away. "I said you'd be back; no one believed me."

"Leah." Amy said pointedly. "You haven't said hello to Granddad yet."

"Oh, right." Leah blushed, turning to wave and smile at Samuel.

"I'll make us a brew, shall I?" Steven said, attempting to ease the tension in the room. Brendan followed him to the kitchen while everyone else was reacquainted. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I guess not." Brendan agreed, taking out several mugs from the cupboard.

Steven glanced over at the group in the living room. "It's nice though, init? All of us together like this."

"Yeah." Brendan grunted.

"Don't be like that."

"I'm sure it was lovely all those years when I wasn't here." Brendan said under his breath so only Steven could hear.

"You're being stupid." Steven replied, sighing. "It wasn't… I wasn't…" he trailed off, frowning to himself. "It was shit without you."

Brendan raised his eyebrows at him. "That's very deep."

"Shut up." Steven gave him a playful shove, laughing. When Brendan was about to return the gesture, he felt two pairs of eyes on him. He lowered his hand.

Steven brought the tea over on a tray, Samuel helping him to hand over mugs while Brendan stood idly behind them. It was taking an incredible amount of self restraint to remain in the room with them. Mitzeee caught his eye and gestured that he sit beside her and Phoenix again. Brendan slid past Samuel to do so, attempting not to touch him in any way. Amy followed his movements with her usual level of scrutiny but didn't comment. The moment he sat down Brendan relaxed a little.

"Alright?" Mitzeee mouthed at him. Brendan nodded quickly, leaning forwards to glance at Phoenix's finished picture.

"That's great." He murmured to him. Phoenix looked up and smiled happily, climbing up into Brendan's lap.

"Watch out, he'll fall asleep on you." Mitzeee whispered to him.

"How would I escape then?" Brendan whispered back to her. Mitzeee stifled a laugh.

Samuel and Steven pulled the chairs round into a circle, allowing everyone to face each other. Brendan, understandably, wasn't thrilled with the idea.

"Hi." Leah suddenly appeared beside him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello." Brendan shuffled up to allow her more space. "How's school? Life? Everything?"

"It's great." She beamed. "School's a bit boring though sometimes. I don't like Maths much."

"Ah, how come?"

"I'm really bad at it." She confessed.

"I could help ye." Brendan said eagerly. "I've always been good with Maths. My timetables-" He cut himself off, appalled that he'd almost forgotten. "I mean, I can… yeah, help."

He could feel Mitzeee's concerned gaze on him. He leaned back, allowing himself to take a long breath. This wasn't like him to be this twitchy and awkward.

"What was prison like?" Leah asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Leah!" Steven had become within earshot.

"It's alright, Steven." Brendan said quietly. Everyone was staring at him now. Phoenix had already dozed off in his lap. "It was… uneventful." Brendan said carefully.

"Really?" Leah shuffled closer, far too interested. "One of my friends' dad was in prison. Did you see him?"

"Leah." Brendan shook his head. "It doesn't really work that way. Who's this friend? Is it safe?" Brendan glanced up at Amy, the first time he'd addressed her.

"He didn't really go to prison. Her friend likes to embellish a bit." Amy told him, rolling her eyes.

"I really do have a Daddy who went to prison though." Leah continued. "Well, two actually!" She grinned.

"Who wants a top up?" Steven asked suddenly, jumping from his seat. "Leah, come help me in the kitchen."

"But-"

"_Leah_."

Leah did as she was told, smile disappearing from her face.

"Kids, eh?" Brendan said, laughing nervously. "I need a drink." He added to Mitzeee.

"I'm on it." She said, jumping up.

Brendan was left alone with Samuel and Amy, with a still dozing Phoenix on his lap. He couldn't escape even if he wanted to. He looked to the ceiling, wanting to ask God why he was _still _being punished. Amy cleared her throat pointedly.

"Phoenix is quite taken with you then." She said, matter-of-fact.

"So is his mother." Samuel added.

Amy glanced over at Mitzeee who was getting two glasses out of the cupboard and Brendan's whiskey. She raised her eyebrows.

"Drinking already?"

Brendan shrugged dismissively. "Why not?"

"There are children present."

"And yer point is?"

Amy pursed her lips.

"Come on, Amy. Don't hold back; ye never did before."

"Will it even matter? Neither of you listen to a word I say."

"Oh ye reckon?"

"Well, Ste's with you, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"There you are then."

"It's touching really how much ye care." Brendan said sarcastically.

"Don't put this on me." Amy hissed quietly. "You know my feelings on all of this."

"Yeah, but do ye know Steven's?" Brendan countered. "After all, it's his choice, isn't it?" He gestured with his hands angrily.

"I'm not sure he can see straight when it comes to you." Amy countered.

"So why are we sitting here then, hm? Why haven't ye told him to get rid of me?"

"You think he'd listen to me? Even the threat of his kids getting taken away-"

"Don't." Brendan said fiercely. "Ye have no idea what he went through when ye did that. Ye destroyed him."

Amy balked then, shaken. "I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Good, because I'm sick of having it."

Samuel had remained oddly silent during their exchange. Brendan daren't look at him in case he decided to tell Amy about the day before.

"Listen," Brendan said, voice softer now. "Can we just pretend to get on for the sake of the kids? Just for now?"

Amy considered this, looking uncertain for the first time. "I suppose so." She said eventually. "For the kids." She added tightly.

"Alright." Brendan agreed, calmer now.

Mitzeee came over with two glasses of whiskey, looking tense.

"Not interrupting, am I?" She asked warily, resuming her previous sitting position.

"No." Amy told her, glancing at Samuel. "I'll be back in a minute." Samuel followed her after a moment's pause. Brendan watched them go with something like relief.

"What was all that about?" Mitzeee asked, sipping her whiskey.

"What do ye think?" Brendan sighed wearily, closing his eyes. He barely noticed Phoenix in his lap now; he was sound asleep.

"She won't kick off, will she? Ste's really trying to make this work."

"I know he is." Brendan said, moving his head to the side to catch Steven in his line of vision. "He looks… happy."

"He _is _happy. With _you_. The sooner Amy and Sam realise that, the better."

"Ye wanna be the one to break the news?" Brendan teased.

"Err, no. You're alright, thanks."

"Brendan?" Leah was beside Brendan once more, this time no longer smiling. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you before."

"Of course ye didn't, darling." Brendan said gently.

"I was just really excited to see you. I didn't think I ever would again." Her eyes filled with tears. Brendan felt a lump forming in his throat.

"Come here." He murmured, holding out an arm. Leah slotted into his embrace easily enough, sniffling against his shoulder.

"You won't leave again?"

"Not if I can help it." Brendan said solemnly.

"Dad was so sad." She said, pulling away now and wiping her face. "Mum wouldn't let us talk about you. She said it would be too upsetting. But sometimes me and Lucas would stay up late and talk about the stories you used to tell us. Remember them?"

"Course I do." Brendan said gruffly. "If you're good, I'll do one for ye later. How's that?"

Leah smiled again then. "I'd like that."

As the day wore on, the atmosphere became less hostile. Amy demonstrated a sense of false politeness which Brendan thought didn't suit her at all. Samuel mostly stayed out of his way; playing with Lucas or talking with Amy and sometimes Steven out of Brendan's earshot. He spent most of the time sparing glances in their direction, straining to hear if his name was being mentioned until Mitzeee scolded him for being paranoid.

Leah and Lucas seemed quite taken with Phoenix. Leah pretended to play house and bossed him around a bit while Lucas gave him various toys to play with; Brendan suspected some of his old ones he'd outgrown. It was a pleasant afternoon, overall. Brendan couldn't have been more relieved.

"Enjoying yourself?" Steven asked softly after Mitzeee and Phoenix had gone home. He wrapped his arms around Brendan's waist, resting his forehead against his back.

"Not as bad as I thought." Brendan said, turning his head to catch Steven's lips.

"Yeah. Ames looks like she's about to bust a gut though. Wonder what's up with her."

"Repressed feelings no doubt." Brendan said truthfully. "We agreed to get on for the sake of the kids."

"So it's all for show?" Steven sounded disappointed. Brendan turned around, holding Steven by the waist.

"Did ye really expect anything more than that?"

"No, I guess not. I did hope though." He shrugged. "Better than nothing I guess."

"Is it time for bed yet? I think we've all had more than we can take today."

"You go in, I'll get Amy and the kids settled in their room."

"Ye sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

Brendan paused halfway to the door. "I promised the kids a story."

Steven smiled then. "Do that now before we take them to bed. If they fall asleep out here that's probably a bonus."

"Keep the adults occupied." Brendan winked, ushering Leah and Lucas over to the sofa. Amy watched them with interest, especially when Brendan started putting on funny voices and making them laugh. Towards the end of the story their eyelids began to droop. It wasn't even Leah's bedtime but the day's excitement seemed to have taken its toll on her.

"I'll take Lucas, you take Leah." Steven told him, and it was almost like old times except for Amy following them into the room.

"Sam's offered me his bed." Amy told Steven. "He's taking the sofa." She added hastily.

"Err, don't put images into my head." Steven wrinkled his nose distastefully.

"Stop that." Amy laughed, nudging him playfully. "Thanks for… you know, getting the kids to sleep." She said to Brendan. She seemed genuine in her thanks.

"Don't mention it." Brendan replied gruffly.

"I'll let you two get to bed then." Amy said awkwardly as they all congregated in the hallway.

"Will you be alright on that old thing, Dad?" Steven asked, leaving them temporarily.

Brendan glanced up at Amy warily. "Okay?"

"Yeah." Amy said, crossing her arms. "Today was fine. Thanks for not making a fuss."

"Likewise."

There was an awkward pause. "You're good with the kids." Amy said begrudgingly. "I told Ste I didn't want them left alone with you without Sam around but actually it wasn't necessary."

Brendan's jaw twitched at her words but he didn't comment. "I appreciate it, I do."

"Good." Amy rolled on the balls of her feet. "I guess we'll see how things go, won't we?"

"I guess we will." Brendan agreed.

"I'm not saying I'm okay with all this." Amy told him pointedly. "But I'm not as put out as I thought I'd be."

"Sometimes I can surprise ye."

"You always surprise me." Amy said a little wistfully. "I don't know if that's good or bad."

"Both, I guess."

Amy smiled a little. "Night, Brendan."

"Night, Amy."

Amy disappeared into Samuel's room and Brendan went into theirs to wait for Steven.

"She didn't kill you then?" Steven asked, bouncing onto the bed.

"Don't sound too disappointed, Steven."

"Aw, you know I love you really."

"Oh yeah? Wouldn't kill ye to say it a little more sometimes, especially in front of them."

"Alright! Getting the point." Steven rested his head against Brendan's stomach.

"Did ye know about Amy's conditions? About leaving me alone with the kids?"

"Ah, she told you?"

"Why didn't ye tell me?"

Steven turned around onto his front to stare up at him. "I didn't wanna upset you."

"Because I feel great now."

"You know what I mean."

"I guess it worked out alright anyway."

"Exactly. She saw how good you were with the kids, that's the main thing."

"Hopefully tomorrow will run just as smoothly."

"Oh yeah, tomorrow." Steven said as though he'd forgotten. "Well if nothing else, at least I love you."

"And like I said-"

"Say it in front of them now and again, got it." Steven leaned up to kiss him lingeringly on the lips. "When this is all over you're gonna have the night of your life."

"Just the night? Seems a shame." Brendan cupped his face.

"Maybe several nights then. A week even."

"That's more like it." Brendan crooned, kissing him again.

"Not tonight though!" Steven said, pulling away and flopping beside him on the bed. "Just cuddling tonight." Brendan groaned. "Oi, watch it!"

"I guess." Brendan pulled the duvet over them. "Ye could at least sleep naked for me."

"Too cold for that." Steven said, shivering for effect.

"Why are ye always cold? Come here." Brendan pulled him into his arms, head tucked under his chin.

"I'm always cold so you hold me this tight." Steven said playfully. "Night, Bren."

Brendan sighed, telling himself over and over again in his head _just one more day. _


	30. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Brendan woke up early the next morning, not through his own volition. The flat was eerily quiet and still. He glanced over at the bedside clock, registering the time. Six thirty am. The kids would probably wake first, as children often did. Steven, Brendan knew, had grown accustomed to sleeping in. He glanced over at his prone, sleeping form. He was curled up as usual, bed sheets tangled between his folded legs.

Brendan slipped out of bed quietly, locating some clothes from the wardrobe they now shared. He decided to go for a run to clear his head and to prepare himself for the days events. The steady thrum through his muscles as his feet hit the pavement gave him a satisfied thrill in his blood. It was pleasant when the village was near empty and the sun wasn't yet warm on his skin. He did a circuit of the surrounding area, finishing up outside the flat.

Amy was outside on the steps when he stopped short, panting heavily. His legs were shaking with the effort; red flaring up his thigh from the heat of his muscles working. She eyed him impassively, drawing her legs up protectively to her chest.

"Alright?" Brendan grunted, taking a long swig from his water bottle.

"You're up early." She noted.

"Could say the same to ye."

She pursed her lips in response, glancing behind her.

"Kids woke me up. Sam's getting them breakfast."

"Course he is." Brendan murmured. Amy's eyes snapped to his face.

"Oh that's a surprise; you don't like him."

"Not a crime is it?" Brendan countered, stretching himself out.

"No, not particularly." Amy frowned a little. "Why then?"

"Ye really wanna know?" Brendan took a seat beside her. Amy shuffled away, holding her nose.

"You smell, be quick."

Brendan barked a laugh. "I don't think he's good for Steven."

Now it was Amy's turn to laugh. "You are kidding, right?"

"No." Brendan looked at her. "As hard as it is to believe, I do have his best interests at heart."

"And Sam doesn't I suppose?" Amy raised her eyebrows sceptically.

"Unknown." Brendan replied simply. "But he hasn't given me reason to think otherwise."

"I could say the same about you." Amy pointed out.

"Don't be like that. I never stood a chance; ye hated me from day one."

"No I didn't!" Amy argued, voice shrill. "It was only after…" she trailed off, thoughtful. "Things could have been different you know."

"Well they aren't." Brendan said shortly.

Amy lowered her head, wisps of hair blowing into her mouth. "What happened to you, Brendan?" She asked quietly.

"What?" Brendan said, taken aback.

"To make you like this." Amy said, not unkindly.

Brendan stared straight ahead. "It's not yer concern."

"I'm not saying it excuses anything but…" Amy paused a moment. "Ste had a rotten childhood, you know?"

"I know."

"And with Sam around, some of that pain has been taken away for him. I'd hate to see him lose that."

"I'm not gonna take Samuel away from him." Brendan told her truthfully.

She nodded as though she might just believe him. "He wants rid of you though, right?"

Brendan turned to her sharply. "What do ye know?"

"Call it intuition." She said with a sad smile. "The thing is, Brendan… Maybe it would be the right thing to do."

"What do ye mean?" Brendan didn't like where this was heading.

Amy sighed. "I can't lie to you. Ste _was _unhappy without you, that was pretty clear. But Sam helped him an awful lot. I think he'd be okay if you… left."

The kindness in her voice made it worse somehow. Brendan blinked, only now beginning to feel the chill in the air properly.

"Samuel's talked to ye, hasn't he?" Brendan said bluntly. "And there was me thinking ye had yer own mind."

Amy sighed sadly. "We have discussed it, yes. But I'd still say the same if he wasn't around."

"No ye wouldn't. Ye would be yelling at me by now to get out of his life or else. Somehow that's preferable."

"Really?"

"I've always respected ye, Amy. Ye spoke yer own mind, stuck up for yerself and Steven. This speaking through others… it doesn't suit ye."

"He hasn't put me up to it." Amy said firmly.

"Of course he hasn't." Brendan said, standing up. "Ye can tell him the answer is no, by the way. I understand he's too scared to slip up right now but this is fucked up." Brendan pushed open the front door, leaving Amy alone on the door step.

Samuel glanced up at him as he entered. Brendan stared him down, not saying a word. He went straight to the bathroom, stripping off his sweaty clothes before stepping underneath the shower.

Someone knocked on the door after a few minutes.

"Bren? That you?"

"Yeah!" Brendan called back. He heard the door open and close.

"You alright?" Steven was pulling his own clothes off, yawning.

"Sure." Brendan stepped back to allow Steven space in the bathtub. They had one of those attached showerheads Brendan had installed before he'd gone to prison.

Steven frowned at him, eyebrows thick and drawn together. "Really?"

"No." Brendan admitted, leaning back against the bathroom wall. He was too weary to hide the truth from him.

"What is it?" Steven stepped closer, the hot water steaming over him.

Brendan shook his head wordlessly. He could feel himself sinking to the floor. Steven knelt down with him, holding him by the shoulders.

"What's happened?" He pressed. His hands were firm on Brendan's skin. "Tell me."

Brendan leaned forwards, pushing their foreheads together. "Ye know I love ye?"

"You're scaring me now." Steven said, feet squeaking against the tub as he pulled himself closer.

"I'm sorry." Brendan hit the floor of the tub fully now, legs drawn up to his chest protectively.

"Don't be sorry, okay? Just tell me."

"Amy thinks it would be best if I left ye."

"What?" Steven frowned, utterly bewildered.

"Ye can't be surprised by that?"

"I thought things were getting better. It seemed like last night-"

"I know." Brendan interrupted. "But apparently not."

Steven took a moment to absorb his words. "I'll talk to her."

"No." Brendan shook his head. "Leave it."

"She can't just say things like that without speaking to me about it." Steven said incredulously. "It's not on."

"She has a point though."

"No." Steven said, always stubborn.

"She said Samuel could take care of ye."

"Fuck sake." Steven nearly stood up but Brendan grabbed his hands.

"Listen, it's not worth it. They ain't ever going to accept me, Steven. There isn't going to be some epiphany for either of them. I screwed up too much with Amy, that's it. It's done."

"But…" Steven looked lost, helpless. "The kids love you."

"The kids don't know the half of it, do they?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Steven," Brendan cradled his face in his hands. "It's the way it has to be, okay? I can't just be accepted by everyone that loves you, it just isn't… plausible."

"What even is that? Don't use big words." Steven was growing upset now, the opposite of what Brendan wanted.

"Shh, I'm sorry." Brendan pulled him close, wet bodies sliding against each other.

"I don't like this." Steven said, muffled against his skin. "Don't leave."

"Steven…"

"I told you before, right. You leave, I'll just follow you."

"Steven-"

"No! It ain't happening, alright?"

"I _know_." Brendan pulled away to look him in the face. "I wouldn't dream of it." He smiled in spite of himself. "It might be better if I disappeared for today though." Steven began to protest until Brendan kissed him. "Ye don't want any trouble, not in front of the kids. I got stuff to do, it's fine."

Steven shook his head sadly. "It's not fair though."

"That's just…" Brendan almost said 'life' but it sounded too cruel. "That's just the way it's gotta be." He finished instead. "I'll come back later, okay?"

"I guess." Steven agreed.

"That's my boy." Brendan smiled, and kissed him again.

The kisses soon turned passionate and before Brendan knew it Steven had climbed into his lap, kisses wet and sloppy against his mouth. Brendan drew him closer by the waist until their groins were pressed against each other. The water from the shower still running overhead gave them an increased level of lubrication between their sliding bodies. Brendan slicked Steven's hair back, away from his face.

"Getting long again." He noted, kissing against his jaw line.

"I know you like it that way." Steven mused, hands tangling in Brendan's own hair, tugging until his lips were at the jut of his throat, licking the water cascading down his Adam's apple.

Brendan tightened his hold on Steven's waist as Steven re-positioned himself so he was fully straddling him, legs either side of Brendan's thighs.

"Shouldn't be doing this now." Steven whispered, arching his back when Brendan's fingers reached behind him.

"We should never be doing this." Brendan pointed out, half meaning it.

Steven stared at him, eyes glazed over with lust. "What do you mean?" He whimpered as Brendan's moist fingers rubbed and stretched him open.

"Bad for ye, apparently." Brendan grunted, trying to get the rhythm right without being able to see his target.

"Pretty good for me right now." Steven pointed out, lifting his arse cheeks upwards to give Brendan better access.

"Ye would say that." Brendan murmured, kissing along his neck.

Steven lifted himself clean of Brendan's fingers, resting his hands on Brendan's shoulders. He lowered himself carefully onto Brendan, legs shaking with the effort of holding himself up and the promise of further pleasure.

"Bit of a tight fit." Steven said, meaning the slide of their bodies in the bath tub. Brendan grinned wickedly.

"Always is." He teased, earning himself a shove. "Watch it, it's slippery."

"You are _filthy._" Steven scolded, grinding down into Brendan's lap as punishment.

"Jesus. Fuck." Brendan grabbed Steven again, burying his face against his chest to muffle his moans.

"Oh yeah, now you're speechless." Steven sighed, gyrating irresistibly on top of him. "Now try leaving me, huh?"

"Ye know I won't."

Steven pulled Brendan's head back, cradling his face so their eyes were locked.

"Promise me." He stilled his movements.

"Don't stop." Brendan growled, digging his fingers into Steven's flesh.

"Promise me then."

"Okay, okay. I will never willingly leave ye."

"That's better." Steven smiled, tipping his head back. Brendan attached himself to Steven's throat, teeth grazing his favourite spot.

Just when they were getting into the right rhythm in the confines of the tub, there was a rap of knuckles against the door. Brendan groaned inwardly, clutching Steven to his chest possessively.

"Everything alright?" Samuel's voice travelled through the door. Steven buried his face against Brendan's neck to stifle his giggles.

"Hey, ye have to answer." Brendan nudged him in the stomach. "He won't believe me."

Steven composed himself enough to call back. "Fine, Dad! Brendan, err, fell over in the bath!"

"Steven." Brendan hissed, nipping his earlobe.

"Ow! Bastard." Steven pushed against his chest. "Be out soon!"

Once they were satisfied Samuel was gone, Steven collapsed bonelessly against him, giggling once more.

"Hey, it ain't funny. I'm balls deep in his son here, the guy could murder me."

"I didn't even lock the door." Steven wheezed, apparently finding the entire situation hilarious.

"Ye idiot." Brendan sighed, rolling his eyes. "Well, maybe we should pick this up later then."

"Aw, no." Steven pouted.

"Surely ye can feel I'm not at my… best."

"Well come on then." Steven kissed him again. "Doesn't normally take much."

"If ye insist."

When they finally emerged from the bathroom, Steven's skin was wrinkly from the water and he was positively glowing.

"You know what? Sod it. You're coming with us today." Steven told him once they were safely back in their bedroom to get changed.

"Steven, we talked about this-"

"No. _You _talked about this. I'm not having you pushed out just because Amy says so."

"No one wants me there, Steven."

"I want you there! The kids want you there!"

Brendan sighed, sitting heavily on their bed. "I'll be back to say goodbye before the kids leave."

"And where are you supposed to go?"

Brendan shrugged. "Maybe I'll go see an old friend."

"Oh yeah?" Steven sat down beside him, skin warm and tempting.

"Don't give me that." Brendan said, resting his hand against Steven's thigh.

"What? I didn't say anything!"

"I know what you're thinking."

"Oh right. Mind reader now, are ya?"

"I wish." Brendan turned his head, smile easy when it was just the two of them.

"You will come back though?" Steven frowned.

Brendan reached out with the pad of his thumb to stroke against Steven's cheek. "I promised, didn't I? Spend time with yer kids. I'll be here when ye get back."

Steven nodded, albeit reluctantly. "I'll pick us something up for dinner."

"Brilliant." Brendan smiled reassuringly at him. "Go on, get dressed."

Brendan waited until they'd all left before he emerged from the bedroom. He dressed casually, ensuring that his cross was nestled against his chest, visible and comforting. It had been a long time since he'd been to church. He walked there feeling uncertain if he'd even be welcome. He'd visited the prison chapel a few times; if nothing else than to escape the constant noise of the other inmates. He'd found some peace there; had spent a long time reflecting on things he had tried not to think about in his cell.

The church was quiet when he arrived with only a few people exiting through the main doors. Brendan stepped aside to let them pass and once they had cleared, Father Des came into view.

"Brendan!" He exclaimed in absolute astonishment.

"Bet ye never expected to see me again."

"Well, no." Father Des still appeared stunned. "Why don't you come in? We can talk."

Brendan nodded, stepping over the threshold. He suddenly felt like a vampire invited into someone's home. He shook his head, trying not to laugh at himself.

Des led him to his private chambers, the place Brendan had stayed many years ago. The same worn furniture remained, musky scent permeating the air. Brendan took a seat across from Des who was still staring at him.

"Can I get you a coffee or something?"

"No, that's alright." Brendan leaned forwards, clasping his hands together. "I'm sorry, Father."

"What for?" Des asked calmly.

"Dropping in without any warning."

"Quite alright." Des replied. "How can I help you, Brendan?"

"Aren't ye going to ask where I've been all this time?"

Des coughed, shifting uncomfortably. "I know where you've been."

Brendan raised his eyebrows. "Ye serious?"

"Word gets around, and I am, ahem, familiar with the McQueen family…"

"Say no more." Brendan held up a hand. "I'm just a little surprised ye would let me in here, knowing what ye know."

Des gazed at him levelly. "I only help those I believe can be saved."

"And that's me, is it?" Brendan couldn't help being sceptical.

"You made quite the impression." Des responded, smiling. "So tell me; how's life been treating you since you left prison?"

Brendan shrugged dismissively. "Well enough."

Des quirked an eyebrow. "I always wondered what happened with… Steven, was it?"

"Yeah, Steven." Brendan sighed. "A lot happened but he's with me now."

Des smiled with genuine delight. "That's wonderful!"

"It is." Brendan agreed, bowing his head. "It's still a little complicated but when isn't it?"

"Complicated how?" Des asked soberly.

"His dad came into the picture while I was gone. He's not exactly accepting of me."

"His dad hadn't been a prominent figure in his life before?"

"No. Only just found each other." Brendan breathed heavily through his nose. "I want to believe that I can be better, for Steven. But Samuel, his dad, isn't helping."

"How so?"

"He's messing with me." Brendan said, trying to fight the anger rising inside of him. "He won't let it be."

"Have you confronted him?"

"Yeah, several times. He's sneaky though."

"Have you told Steven?"

"He knows, mostly. He's given his dad another chance to prove himself."

"And he's already broken that chance?"

"As far as Steven knows he hasn't."

"I see." Des looked pensive, staring off into the far distance.

"I know the bible says to love thy enemy, but he's not making it easy."

"No, I see that." Des paused, seemingly considering his words carefully. "I can only advise you, Brendan. You know Steven better than me. But I believe the best course of action is to speak to him."

"He thinks I'm gonna leave him." Brendan admitted. "Like I would."

"He's most likely feeling scared and confused. You were gone from his life for so long and he established new connections, with his father. Now he's trying to balance that out. You can only reassure him, and his father, that you aren't going anywhere."

Brendan nodded, letting his words sink in. "And if that doesn't work?"

Des smiled then. "By all means, my door is always open."

Xxx

Steven and the rest returned later that afternoon. Leah made a beeline for him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Where were you? We went to the cinema."

"I had some business I had to attend to, very important business." Brendan winked.

"Tell me later?"

"Maybe." Brendan said, ruffling Lucas' hair as he ran past him.

Samuel and Amy entered after the kids, giving Brendan the once over.

"Where's Steven?" Brendan asked immediately.

"Here!" Steven said, pushing his way through the door. He was carrying several shopping bags. "Next time I'm taking you, these are proper heavy."

Brendan strode forwards to take one of the heavier bags from him, giving Samuel a glare for not offering to help himself.

"He insisted he was fine." Samuel murmured, embarrassed.

"Brendan's strong." Leah piped up. "He could lift me above my head."

"Let's not test that theory." Amy said warningly at the playful curve of Brendan's mouth.

"You're the boss." Brendan said, helping Steven to unload the shopping.

"We really shouldn't stay for dinner, Ste. I have to get the kids back tonight."

"Aw, but I bought them nuggets." Steven said, looking crestfallen.

"I'm hungry now!" Lucas said, tugging on Amy's arm.

"You only had popcorn a few hours ago!" Amy said, exasperated.

"Growing boys need all the food they can get." Brendan said reasonably.

"Well I suppose they could just have the nuggets…" Amy said carefully.

Leah bounced up and down gleefully. "Can we bake a cake?"

"No." Amy and Steven said in unison, flashing each other a smile at the familiarity.

While Steven was putting the nuggets onto a tray, Brendan wrapped an arm around his waist, kissing the side of his head.

"What was that for?" Steven asked, grinning widely.

"Missed ye." Brendan shrugged.

"Did you see your friend?"

"Father Des." Brendan supplied, giving Steven a pointed look.

"Yeah?" Steven's eyes lit up, turning to look at Brendan expectantly. "Did he help?"

"Yeah, very much so."

"What did you two talk about?"

"Oh, ye know, this and that." Brendan smirked.

"Did you talk about me?" Steven asked eagerly.

"Now why would we do that?" Brendan answered teasingly.

"Oi." Steven gave him a gentle nudge. "Will you see him again do you think?"

Brendan shrugged. "If need be."

"What does that mean?" Steven frowned.

"Don't worry." Brendan said, striding into the living room. "Anyone want a drink?" He offered graciously. Amy eyed him suspiciously.

"Tea." She said succinctly.

"Coming right up."

"I like it-"

"I remember."

Amy allowed a small smile to grace her lips momentarily. Samuel watched this exchange with interest.

"I'll help you." He offered, following Brendan back to the kitchen.

"Very kind of ye, Samuel." Brendan said pleasantly. Steven gave him a wide grin as he went past.

Samuel kept his own smile in place until Steven was out of earshot.

"What's happened to you today, hm? Personality transplant?"

"Just following good old fashioned advice." Brendan replied neutrally. "I know what ye tried to do with Amy." He added, lowering his voice.

"I don't know what you-"

"Don't insult my intelligence, Samuel. Ye know what ye were doing, I know what ye were doing. Let's leave it there."

"You're going to tell Steven then?" Samuel asked, blocking their faces from view by standing directly in front of Brendan.

"Whatever ye may think of me, I love that boy more than life itself." Brendan said slowly, all good humour gone. "And I won't see him hurting, even if it is for a waste of space like you."

"I don't believe you." Samuel said harshly.

"I don't care what ye believe." Brendan said bitingly. "Just know that I'm not going _anywhere_. Got it?"

"Got it." Samuel said tightly.

"Tea's ready." Brendan announced to the room. "For the lovely Amy." Amy rolled her eyes but took the offered cup. Brendan smiled down at the kids, wrapping his arms around Steven again warmly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Samuel watching over the scene. If he didn't hate Brendan before, he most certainly did now.


	31. Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty One

It was difficult to say goodbye to his kids again. He felt like he was constantly saying goodbye to them. He remembered a time when he would see their smiling faces everyday and somehow things would look brighter, no matter how bad they were.

His dad tried to compensate for their loss by being over familiar with him. Organising film nights in front of the telly, taking him out for meals. Ste knew he meant well and he didn't want to hurt his feelings so for the most part he indulged him.

Brendan, in contrast, became distant. Something was on his mind that Ste couldn't work out and it was frustrating to the extreme because he thought by now he had everything about Brendan figured out. He didn't confront him for a while; convinced he was simply being paranoid or Brendan would reveal the reasoning for his sullen mood if he gave him space and time.

Eventually however it became unbearable. Sam had organised yet another father-son bonding evening and instead of ignoring it as usual, Brendan had snapped at him.

"Again, Steven? Will he ever let ye off the leash?"

"What are you on about?" Ste was sat in the middle of their bed, legs drawn up to his chest.

"I'm sorry." Brendan rubbed his temple in agitation. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, tell me what you really think." Ste pressed, crawling across the bed to get closer to Brendan, who was standing at the edge. "You've been dead weird for ages."

"Weird?" Brendan laughed hollowly. "Aren't I always weird, Steven?"

"No. Not anymore." Ste said, frowning. "Just talk to me. You've been like this since the kids left."

Brendan glanced off to the side, unable to meet his eyes. "I thought I could rise above it." He said so quietly Ste almost didn't hear him.

"Rise above what?" Ste asked, moving closer. "Sit down."

"No." Brendan began to pace, agitated.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what it is." Ste said firmly.

Brendan paused, squaring his shoulders. "I've just had a lot to think about lately."

"Like what?"

Brendan stared at him helplessly. "It's not time yet."

"What kind of answer is that?" Ste jumped off the bed, making Brendan flinch.

"Just… trust me."

"How can I if you won't be honest with me? I thought we were past all this, Bren."

"We _are_."

"Then talk to me!" Ste grabbed his hands, holding on for dear life. "Please."

"Don't." Brendan pulled his hands away. "Don't say please. Ye shouldn't ever have to beg me for anything."

"Not even…" Ste trailed off, quirking his eyebrow. He was trying to draw Brendan back to him and for a moment it worked. Brendan smiled a little.

"Maybe then." He said softly. Ste took the opportunity to wrap his arms around him, pulling him in close.

"Whatever it is you're worrying about, don't." Ste said, near muffled against his chest. "I'll tell dad I need to take a night off tonight."

"Why?" Brendan pulled away a little, wary.

"So we can talk or something." Ste said, looking into his face. "Or not talk, whatever." He added quickly at Brendan's clear hesitation.

"I do want to." Brendan said quietly. "I have something I need to sort out."

"Can't it wait?"

Brendan looked above his head, heaving a sigh. "I'm afraid not."

"You'll come back after though?" Ste hated the uncertainty in his voice.

"Straight away." Brendan said, somewhat reassuringly.

"I'll stay in with dad then I guess." Ste slipped his arms away, feeling rejected.

Brendan hesitated, his hand half-outstretched as though to touch him, reassure him. Eventually he dropped it, looking away from Ste.

"I won't be long."

Ste watched him leave with resignation. He'd try to talk to him again later but he wasn't sure what difference it would make.

Feeling low, Ste took off his daytime clothes and got into some old, worn pyjama's. For one night he wanted to feel like a child; gain a sense of the childhood he could have had if a loving parent had been present.

Sam was sitting on the sofa when he went out into the living room. He glanced up at Ste in some surprise, taking note of his unusual attire.

"Feeling cold, son?"

"A little." Ste sighed, padding over to him. "What we watching?"

"I was just watching a documentary but we can watch whatever you like."

Ste joined him on the sofa, tentatively nudging against his side. Sam raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"What's wrong?"

"Just feeling a bit…" Ste trailed off awkwardly.

Sam frowned at him until he eventually cottoned on. "Oh." He said, moving his arm to rest across the top of the sofa. Ste slid in easily at his side, shuffling down on the sofa so his knees were curled up to his chest.

"Thanks." Ste said, feeling silly but comforted.

"Shall we see what films are on?" Sam asked, placing the remote in front of Ste's face.

"Okay but I don't want to watch another history film."

Sam laughed heartily. "Whatever you want."

"How about this one?" Ste flicked to the appropriate channel.

"You like your gangster films, don't you?"

Ste shrugged. "Comforts me for some reason."

Sam was silent at that. He moved his arm to rest across Ste's waist. "Everything okay, son?"

"Yeah." Ste said, barely convincing himself.

"Brendan went out in a hurry." Sam noted.

"He said he had something to sort out."

"Oh?"

Ste glanced up at him sheepishly. "It's nothing dodgy, I'm sure of it."

"So you know what it is then?"

"Well, no. But I'll ask him when he comes back."

"Did he say how long he'd be?"

"No. But I don't mind waiting up for him."

"Well, we've got this to watch anyway." Sam said reasonably, taking the remote back to turn up the volume. "You want anything to eat? Drink?" Sam asked, shifting his body as though he was about to move.

"No." Ste said quickly, pulling himself closer. He carefully rested his head on Sam's lap, atop a well placed pillow. "Can you just… hold me for a bit?"

"Of course." Sam said, startled. "What's this all about, Steven?"

"My mum." Ste answered, swallowing thickly. "She never liked to hold me."

"You never said." Sam said carefully.

"It was a whole thing, I don't want to talk about it." Ste shifted a little, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You must miss her a great deal."

"I don't know." Ste admitted truthfully. "She was my mum."

Sam was quiet for some time, seemingly absorbing his words. "Well, if you ever want me to hold you, I'm here."

"Thank you." Ste opened his eyes again, wiping the tears away with his sleeve.

They watched the film in silence for a while. Ste felt warm and comfortable; so much so that he almost nodded off a few times. Outside it grew darker and colder and with each passing minute Ste wondered where Brendan was and what he was doing.

His eyes began to feel heavy and at one point he felt Sam's hand in his hair, stroking gently.

"Do you want to go to bed, son? I can wait up for Brendan."

"It's okay." Ste mumbled, beginning to feel sleep pulling at him. "I'll just rest here a minute then I'll go to bed."

"Alright." Sam agreed, turning the volume down on the television.

When Ste opened his eyes again, pale light was shining through the curtains. He was alone on the sofa with a blanket draped over him. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, trying not to wake up completely. He stumbled towards his bedroom, footsteps heavy and addled by sleep. He was relieved to see Brendan in bed, fast asleep. He crawled in beside him, tugging Brendan's arm to rest over him. Brendan grunted a little, pulling Ste against him reflexively.

Ste kissed his chest, feeling himself shiver at his momentary escape from warmth. Brendan pulled the cover further over the two of them, evidently awake now.

"Where were you?" Ste whispered.

"I got back later than expected and ye were already asleep… with Samuel."

"That must have looked a bit weird-" Ste began sheepishly.

"I get it, Steven. Granted, I never wanted my dad to hold me, for obvious reasons."

"Brendan," Ste pushed himself up a little to look at Brendan properly. "Are you okay? Will you tell me where you went?"

Brendan sighed, a little resigned but ultimately much more relaxed than he had been earlier.

"I went to a night service at the church."

"You could have told me that; I'd have gone with you."

"I know, I'm sorry. I went to talk to Father Des afterwards. Lost track of time."

"It's okay." Ste snuggled back down beside him.

"Ye had a good time with yer dad then?"

"Yeah, it was nice." Ste said, pushing down his embarrassment.

"What's this?" Brendan said suddenly, pulling at the fabric of Ste's pyjama's.

"Oh…" Ste laughed, trying to shift away from Brendan. He caught him easily, encircling him in his arms.

"Is that a onesie? Seriously?"

"No!" Ste attempted to wriggle free.

"That's… adorable, really."

"Shut up!" Ste ceased his struggles, flopping weightlessly against Brendan's chest. "The kids bought it for me ages ago. I was cold."

"Yeah, stick to that story." Brendan laughed, chest heaving with each chuckle. Ste smiled in spite of himself, pleased that Brendan was acting more like his old self again.

"Still better than some of the things you used to wear." Ste pointed out, poking him in the side.

"Oh yeah? I seem to recall a particularly garish yellow shirt of yers…"

"That shirt was decent!"

"Do ye still have it?" Brendan asked, amused.

"Somewhere, yeah. Probably gathering mothballs in the back of my wardrobe."

"Have to model it for me sometime." Brendan teased.

"I thought you preferred me out of clothes?"

"I do, especially if ye are wearing onesies for Christ's sake."

"It's too cold to sleep naked, I told you."

"I'll give ye one of my shirts to wear. I just can't sleep with ye in this. It's unthinkable."

"Well alright." Ste slipped away from him to unzip the onesie, practically climbing out of it. "Toss me some clothes then." He said when Brendan made no move to offer him any. "Bren?"

Suddenly he felt lips at the base of his shoulder.

"This is better." Brendan murmured against his skin. Ste felt goosebumps rise on his flesh, not entirely from the cold.

"You better work at warming me up then." Ste told him, turning in his arms. They lay together, noses brushing against each other.

"That's a challenge I can get behind." Brendan said, kissing him lingeringly on the mouth. "Quite literally."

"Just make sure you don't make too much noise." Ste warned, glancing at the bedroom door.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Brendan said coyly, stripping himself of his remaining clothes and mounting Ste in the bed. He ran his hands down his sides, resting at the curve of his arse.

Ste drew his legs upwards obediently, widening them and holding himself by the thighs.

"Someone's keen." Brendan murmured, laying a bite against his inner thigh.

"Don't flatter yourself." Ste said, grinning. His smile faded as Brendan began to work on him and soon it became difficult to keep his mouth closed.

"Problem, Steven?" Brendan raised his eyebrows cockily. It was almost like old times when Brendan had very much been in charge.

"Not at all." Ste lied easily, clutching his legs tighter in his hands.

"If ye say so." Brendan said, resuming his movements. Ste clenched around him, feeling a low moan escape his lips. "Do I have to find something to gag ye?"

"Don't you fucking dare." Ste said breathlessly. Brendan laughed, finding Ste's empty hand resting on his chest.

"Squeeze when it gets overwhelming, yeah?"

Ste nodded, squeezing already and drawing another chuckle from Brendan.

Even in the strange light of morning, it felt natural to be doing this together. One minute Brendan was distant, cold even, and the next he had Ste circled in his arms, the most tender of embraces.

Ste had felt some comfort from the way Sam held him but it wasn't like this. There was something familiar and altogether safe about being in Brendan's arms. It made no conceivable sense to him sometimes, considering the things he knew Brendan was capable of. Somehow it didn't seem to matter anymore.

When they eventually drifted back off to sleep, Brendan's arm draped across his waist, now covered in one of Brendan's old shirts, Ste felt warm and happy once more. It was frightening at times, how much he depended on Brendan to make him happy. He couldn't take the coldness of the early days, or the uncertainty of the later ones. He hoped things would be back to normal soon, or at least as normal as they could be.

The thing with Brendan was, there was never going to be an easy fix. They were never going to be one of those secure couples who argued over what detergent to buy. It was always going to be messy and confusing. Ste could only imagine Brendan's reaction to coming home and finding him with Sam. There was something nagging at him in the back of his mind about that, a thought he didn't want to examine too closely.

Deciding he'd done enough thinking for one day and knowing there weren't many hours left of near light, Ste closed his eyes and attempted to go back to sleep. He wasn't sure of Brendan's mood in the morning, or even his own but for now, he was content to lie in the arms of the man he loved. After all, Ste knew all too well how fragile and temporary moments like this could be and he would be damned if he didn't cling onto them with dear life while he was able to.


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Two

Brendan slept fitfully that night. His usual nightmares were replaced with new ones, startling in their vivid sense of reality. One in particular had him jolting upright, body covered in a cold sweat. He knew it had something to do with what he'd walked in on earlier. Steven, laid across Samuel's lap like a broken doll, eyelashes fluttered shut over his perfect face. The way Samuel had _looked _at him, like he was precious and his. It made Brendan sick to his stomach, coupled with the worry he was already dealing with.

"Brendan." Samuel had greeted him, voice low so as not to wake Steven.

"What's going on?" Brendan asked blankly, staring fixedly at Steven's prone form.

"He fell asleep, what does it look like?"

"Why _here_? Why with _you_?"

"What exactly are you insinuating?" Samuel asked tersely, gently moving Steven's head from his lap and replacing the pillow on the sofa. He stood up, ushering Brendan into the kitchen.

"What do ye think?" Brendan growled, grip tight on the counter top.

"I don't know what goes on in that sick head of yours but I was being a _father_."

"Steven's too old for cuddles." Brendan said sharply, his knuckles white.

"He needed me, you weren't here." Samuel hissed. "He said his mother never held him properly."

"Pauline?" Brendan scoffed. "Good thing."

"That's not how Steven sees it, have some respect for the dead."

"I have no more respect for the dead than I do for the living." Brendan countered, remembering the way his Nana had flopped weightlessly in his arms at her passing.

Samuel glanced back over at Steven. He was covered with a blanket, still sound asleep.

"I'll take him to bed." Brendan announced, shouldering his way past Samuel. Samuel grabbed his wrist tightly in one hand.

"Leave him, he's tired. He was waiting up for you."

"Well I'm here now." Brendan snapped, wrenching himself free. Samuel was surprisingly strong.

"You know you'll wake him up, let him be." Samuel said, voice softer now.

"Fine." Brendan grunted. "Ye have to as well."

"Of course." Samuel bowed his head graciously, following Brendan into the hallway. "There's no need to be quite so aggressive, Brendan."

"Don't push me." Brendan said tightly. "It's been a long night."

"Doing what exactly? Or is it on a need to know basis?"

"Ye could say that." Brendan said darkly, nudging open his bedroom door.

"Does Steven need to know?"

"Not right now." Brendan said, closing his door halfway.

"I'll find out anyway." Samuel said pleasantly.

"Good for you." Brendan said, shutting the door in his face.

Brendan hadn't slept for those few hours he remained alone in bed. When he heard Steven's footsteps approaching he'd closed his eyes, not wanting him to know he was troubled. Now he lay in bed, sunlight pouring through a large gap in the curtains. He didn't want to get up and busy himself with anything. He didn't want to leave Steven alone for a moment.

Instead he draped himself over Steven's still sleeping form, pressing his nose against his cheek and brushing his lips over his skin. Steven wriggled a little, hands finding their way to Brendan's bare chest.

"What?" He murmured sleepily.

"Morning." Brendan said quietly, resting his cheek against Steven's.

"You aren't normally this cuddly in the morning." Steven noted, opening his eyes slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" Brendan asked, clamping his legs tightly around Steven's. "Maybe I just want to."

"Mm." Steven stretched himself out with some difficulty. His spine popped, making him groan in satisfaction. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Like a baby." Brendan lied, shuffling away to give Steven space to move.

"Hey," Steven pulled him back, easy smile in place. "Where's my good morning kiss?"

"Morning breath, ye know."

"Like I care." Steven pushed himself up onto his elbows and gave Brendan a lingering kiss. "That's better."

"Do we have to work today?" Brendan asked, swinging his legs out of bed.

"I guess so. You aren't going to disappear again?"

There was a hint of uncertainty in Steven's voice that made Brendan turn back to him. He wished that he could tell him what was really going on but it wasn't time yet.

"I'm not going anywhere." Brendan promised with a little more solemnity than the situation required.

Steven smiled hesitantly, sliding out of the covers. He was still naked and only reached for a pair of boxers before heading to the bedroom door.

"Wait!" Brendan went ahead of him, blocking his path. "Aren't ye getting dressed?"

Steven smiled at him in amusement. "I was gonna shower first."

"Yeah, but can't ye put a shirt on?"

"To go to the bathroom? Why?" Steven asked, frowning a little.

"It would just make me feel more comfortable." Brendan explained slowly.

"But dad's the only one in the flat." Steven laughed incredulously. "Unless you think…" he trailed off, realisation dawning on him. "Brendan!" He gave him a solid shove. "What are you playing at?"

"I didn't say anything." Brendan replied stoically.

"We've been over this," Steven sighed, placing his hands on Brendan's shoulders as if to steady him. In reality the shove had barely unbalanced him. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Last night…" Brendan began uneasily. Steven coloured instantly.

"Okay, that was a bit weird of me, I'll admit. But it's nothing like what you're thinking. He's my dad!"

"It doesn't stop some people." Brendan said quietly.

Steven's mouth snapped shut abruptly. "I'm sorry." He said eventually.

Brendan shook his head dismissively. "You're right, I'm mistaken."

Steven's gaze still looked troubled. He stood up on his tip toes to wrap his arms securely around Brendan's neck.

"I'll put a shirt on." He acquiesced. Brendan nodded against him, unable to speak.

They walked to the club in silence. Brendan even let Steven hold his hand, partly concealed between their bodies. Samuel had gone to the club early to prepare for some important lunch time customers; big spenders apparently.

"Why do ye still wear the uniform?" Brendan asked as they walked up the steps. Steven paused, turning back to frown at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't wear it and yer dad runs the place. Why do ye bother?"

Steven frowned a little in thought. "I guess it's comforting?" He answered eventually.

"Really?" Brendan felt himself smile.

"I have some good memories in this uniform." Steven grinned.

Brendan moved to his step, pressing him against the railings. "Oh yeah? Same uniform is it?"

"Course." Steven looked up at him through long lashes. "Remember all the times you used to press me up against surfaces in this thing? Like you are now?"

Brendan's hand found his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "I remember." He murmured. "Have to do some re-enactments sometime."

"I'd like that." Steven replied, voice low and pleased.

Brendan pulled him closer; their lips brushing together. Steven smiled into the kiss and Brendan couldn't help but feel his burden lift a little.

A cough interrupted them. Brendan glanced up to see Samuel at the top of the steps, looking at them with a tight, pained expression.

"Could do with some help in here."

"No problem, _boss._" Brendan said pointedly, grazing his hand against Steven's hip as he pulled away. "We'll pick this up later." Brendan whispered into Steven's ear, making sure Samuel was watching.

Steven practically glowed with pleasure, the smile only leaving his face when he reached the top of the steps and took in Samuel's expression.

"When are they arriving then?"

"An hour. The place needs cleaning, top to bottom." Samuel said sternly, gesturing that Steven enter before him. Brendan took his time reaching the door, eyes never leaving Samuel's face. "Toilets could do with a clean." Samuel told him coolly.

"That right?"

"I would ask Steven to do it but it's rather a demeaning job, don't you think?"

Brendan barely missed a beat. "I'd be happy to then."

Samuel nodded, lips pressed together.

Brendan kicked the mop and bucket into the toilets, rolling up his shirt sleeves. He wasn't about to get down on his hands and knees and scrub, that was for sure. Fifteen minutes in and he was sure he was making the floor filthier with each stroke of the mop.

"Fuck sake." He cursed, slumping against the toilet wall.

Steven chose that moment to enter, closing the door shut after him. He looked Brendan up and down, amusement evident on his face.

"Well, this is quite a sight. The almighty Brendan Brady, cleaning toilets like the rest of us."

"Tell me I never made ye do this." Brendan said, pained. "This is slave labour."

Steven laughed, stepping over a particularly drenched section on the floor. "Of course you did, sometimes without a clean mop head either."

"I can only apologise." Brendan said sincerely. "Seriously, how do ye do this?"

Steven rolled his eyes, taking the mop from Brendan's hands. "You slide it like this." He said, demonstrating. "Put it to one corner if you can and then soak up the rest with a dry mop head, or if not some blue paper towels work just as well."

Brendan stared at him wonderingly. "Ye shouldn't even be doing this. Ye had yer own business once."

"I could say the same to you." Steven countered, finishing up the floor for him.

"Do ye ever think we should just…" Brendan trailed off, biting his finger.

"What?" Steven asked, replacing the mop against the wall. He leaned next to Brendan.

"Get away from this place? Start again?"

"Where's this come from?" Steven asked, stunned.

Brendan shrugged. "What have we really got to stay around here for?"

"Err let me think," Steven held out his hand, counting on his fingers. "Mitzeee, Phoenix, Dad, our jobs, our home…"

"Steven," Brendan moved to stand in front of him. "This is about us, not them. What do ye want?"

"I…" Steven trailed off uncertainly. "I don't know." He admitted honestly.

Brendan bowed his head, a feeling of defeat washing over him. "Forget it." He murmured.

"No, don't do that!" Steven pushed himself away from the wall so they were practically in each other's faces. ""I'm not ruling it out or anything, I'm just saying-"

"Daddy comes first." Brendan said bitterly. "Should have figured that."

"You aren't being fair." Steven told him firmly.

"Of course not. I can't keep doing this, Steven. That man out there-" Brendan pointed for emphasis. "Is out to destroy us. Why can't ye see that?"

"That's crazy; we've already spoken to him and things are fine."

"Things are not _fine. _He's goading me at every opportunity."

"Are you sure you aren't just rubbing each other up the wrong way?"

Brendan sighed in exasperation. "He's not going to quit until I'm out of yer life. Why do ye think Amy asked me to slip away quietly, hm? That was his doing."

"No." Steven shook his head adamantly. "You never said that before."

"I didn't wanna hurt yer feelings." Brendan argued.

"What, like you are now?" Steven said, raising his voice.

"I didn't mean to," Brendan said wearily. "I'm just tired of this pretence."

"He only asked you to clean the toilets." Steven muttered.

"It's not about the fucking toilets!" Brendan shouted. "Why won't ye just _listen _to me?"

"Why won't you just _talk _to me?" Steven shouted back. "You were dead weird yesterday and every time I think we're getting somewhere you shut me out again."

"That's what ye signed up for," Brendan said, widening his arms. "The fuck up that is Brendan Brady."

"Don't talk like that." Steven said fiercely.

"It's true though, isn't it? So fucked in the head that he even thought yer dad wanted to fuck ye!"

"What is going on in here?" Samuel threw open the door, making both of them jump.

"Daddy to the rescue!" Brendan clapped his hands. "I'm done." He shoved past Samuel, not looking at him.

As he ran to the stairs, Mitzeee was coming up them.

"Brendan? What on earth's the matter?"

"Nothing. Leave it, Anne." Brendan said, moving past her.

"Like hell." She said, going after him. "What's he done? It's Sam again isn't it?"

She followed him outside the club to the alleyway. Brendan leaned against the wall, taking deep, heaving breaths.

"I lost it." Brendan said, talking down to his knees.

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I asked Steven if he wanted to get away from here and he wasn't sure, didn't want to leave Samuel."

"Well, that's natural I suppose." Mitzeee said reasonably, leaning against the wall with him. "Did you at least tell him the other thing?"

Brendan looked over at her. "No."

"Why not?"

"It's not time yet." Brendan mumbled.

"You can't hide your feelings forever." Mitzeee sighed. "Look what happens when you do."

Brendan leaned his head back against the wall. "Samuel's probably filling his head with all sorts right now."

"Then go talk to him!"

"How can I? He probably hates me, don't blame him."

"Brendan Brady," Mitzeee said sternly, straightening up abruptly. "That boy in there loves the bones of you. Think of everything he's had to deal with, all the crap you put him through." She carried on even when he winced. "He's forgiven you for so much and it isn't because you manipulated him, or smothered him like Sam's doing; it's because you gave him a choice. He _chose _you. He could have given you up a thousand times over and he didn't. When are you going to realise that you're the most important person in the world to him?"

Brendan opened his mouth but Mitzeee silenced him.

"You go find him right now and tell him the truth. If you don't _I'll _come after you and that won't be pretty." She smiled then, flicking her long hair behind her.

Brendan felt the flicker of a smile on his own face. "If I wasn't gay, Anne…"

"Oh I know, love. Shame." She patted his face, smiling openly now. "Go on. I won't tell you twice."

Brendan leaned forwards to kiss her on the forehead before straightening and bracing himself.

"Wish me luck?" He breathed, feeling the adrenaline pumping through him already.

"You won't need it." She winked, giving him a little push. "Go on!"

Xxx

Sam poured Steven a drink at the bar, taking it over to him where he sat on one of the sofas.

"Those clients will be in soon." Steven muttered, putting two hands around the small glass and sipping.

"I've already called in some more staff. No idea where Mitzeee's got to." He said, glancing towards the stairs.

"I'm sorry," Steven said. "I don't know what came over us."

Sam sat down beside him, pulling Steven in close with one arm. "It's that man; you can't see straight with him around."

Steven's body went rigid. Sam looked at him in some surprise as Steven raised his head to gape at him.

"What?" He asked warily.

"Have you been talking to Amy?" Steven asked slowly.

"What's given you that impression, son?"

Steven pulled away from him. "The thing you just said, about not being able to see straight."

"Yes…" Sam frowned at him.

"I said it to Amy once."

"I must have overheard you."

"No. I said it years ago."

"And probably recently too. What's your point?"

Steven shook his head. "Tell me it isn't true. Tell me you didn't get Amy to warn Brendan off."

"Why on earth would I do that?" Despite his protestations, Sam was beginning to grow anxious.

"I'm so stupid," Steven said, gritting his teeth as the tears started to form in his eyes. "You haven't changed your mind about Brendan, have you? You still want him away from me!"

"Steven," Sam said quickly, grabbing his shoulders. "I only want what's best for you."

"Look me in the eye and tell me you think that's Brendan."

Sam mouthed wordlessly at him, unable to respond.

"I thought so." Steven said angrily, standing up.

"Wait!" Sam grabbed him, holding him firmly in front of him. "Listen to me a minute."

"I'm tired of listening to you!" Steven yelled. "I'm tired of listening to people who treat me like a child and act like they know what's best for me! You don't get to decide that, Dad! You threw that away the second you abandoned me."

"You know I tried, Steven! Pauline, she-"

"Don't talk about her!" Steven was like a wild thing, shoving Sam's hands away from him. "Don't talk about my mum, ever!"

"Steven, I-"

"And stop calling me Steven!" Steven growled, eyes blazing with heat. "Brendan calls me that."

Sam faltered, at a loss for what to say. "Maybe I was wrong to be so persistent. But the things I've heard about him, I can't just ignore them."

Steven calmed down enough to process his words. "I know he's done bad things, but he's trying so hard to change. We were so close last time but it was people like you meddling into things that messed everything up."

"He beat you, son. Just before he went inside. How can you excuse that?"

"I'm not!" Steven said fiercely.

"I'm only doing all of this because I love you, you're my son." Sam moved his hands to cradle his face. "I missed so much of your life; is it so wrong to want to protect you from harm? After everything Terry did to you?"

"Brendan isn't Terry." Steven said hollowly.

"Is he really any better though?" Sam questioned, searching Steven's face for answers.

"Of course he is. Terry didn't have anything good inside him. He beat me again and again and again and didn't give a shit about it. It doesn't make what Brendan's done any better, I know that, but he isn't him. He isn't."

"Okay." Sam breathed, trying to placate him. His hands were beginning to tremble and he could feel Steven shaking against him. "Come here." He pulled him tight against his chest, lips buried in his hair. "I'm sorry."

"Are you going to stop now? Can I trust you to leave us alone?"

Sam hesitated, not knowing the right way to answer that. It was one thing, trusting his son, but quite another to trust Brendan.

Steven sensed his reluctance, pulling away from him. He gave him a sad smile.

"You won't, will you? You said you would last time and you didn't."

"I don't know what to tell you, son." Sam said honestly. "I really don't."

Steven pulled completely out of his embrace. "I need to go see Brendan, sort this out."

"Now? The mood he's in? I don't think-"

"It's not for you to decide." Steven said stubbornly.

"What about us?" Sam asked helplessly.

"I don't know." Steven said, so soft and broken that it made Sam's heart beat painfully in his chest. He slipped away from him. "Don't come after me; it'll only make it worse." Steven told him once he'd reached the door. Sam nodded numbly.

Somehow he made it through his clients' lunch. He smiled in all the right places, said the right things. Every spare moment he got he glanced at his phone and the door, willing Steven to contact him. How long could it possibly take to talk things through with Brendan?

When his clients finally left, Sam decided to close up for a few hours to go and find them. He didn't care if Steven would be angry at him; it couldn't possibly get any worse than it was now.

He walked back to the flat in a daze, wondering how things had accelerated so quickly. What had finally broken Brendan? It had seemed like any other day in the war they were waging against each other. What had pushed Brendan to the edge to make him speak out in this way? Sam clenched and unclenched his fists, hardly knowing what he'd do when he was faced with Brendan again. If only he could make Steven see sense, make him realise that Sam only wanted the best for him. It was all a father could ever want for their son.

Sam unlocked the front door with some trepidation, expecting raised voices. He was met with complete silence. Feeling his palms begin to itch with unease, he walked through the flat, glancing into every space for any sign of them. He reached the bedroom, feeling as though he was in a thriller film about to witness something horrific.

Instead all he found was emptiness. He went to the wardrobe and saw that half of their clothes were missing. Some of the drawers had been emptied too; left open as though they'd been in a hurry. Sam felt his entire body go numb with shock. It was only seeing the piece of paper left on Steven's pillow that propelled him forwards. Written in Steven's scrawled, unmistakeable handwriting were two simple words:

_I'm sorry. _


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three

When Sam had first met his son, Steven had been wary but curious. After their initial first meetings, Sam had left the ball in Steven's court. He'd given him his number and told him to call if he needed anything. Days passed and he heard nothing from him. It took an immense amount of self restraint to not go to the hospital himself. He had waited so long to find him and he wasn't sure how patient he could be.

Eventually however, the call came. Steven's voice was low, cautious. Sam wondered if he was using his phone when he wasn't supposed to from his hospital bed. He had to smile at that.

"I'm going a bit mad here," Steven was telling him in a rush. "They said I can't leave unless someone is able to take care of me."

"Oh," Sam said thoughtfully. "Would you like me to contact someone for you? A friend perhaps?"

"I don't have any friends." Steven said quickly. He didn't seem overly concerned by that but Sam was. "Look, I know we've only just met but could you do me a massive favour?"

"Of course." Sam sat up straighter, pleased and intrigued. "What is it?"

"Could you…" Steven paused, breathing heavy and laboured over the phone.

"Alright?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Yeah, sorry. Bit of a twinge. Could you come to the hospital and sign my release forms? Tell them you'll look after me?"

Sam let this sink in for a moment. "I'd be glad to." He said eventually.

"Thank you." Steven sounded immensely relieved. "I hate hospitals, me. Especially since-" He cut himself off awkwardly. "Could you come by soon? Please?"

"I'll be right there." Sam said, car keys already in hand.

When he arrived, Steven was dressed in ordinary clothes. He appeared to be wearing a jumper far too big for him, navy blue with white pulleys. Steven was playing with the latter when Sam walked in. He glanced up, smiling sheepishly at him.

"You came." He sounded surprised.

"I said I would." Sam replied, picking up Steven's bag from the floor and moving it to rest on the bed.

"I wasn't sure." Steven said awkwardly, pulling the sleeves over his hands and fiddling with them.

"You can rely on me." Sam said, perhaps a little too firmly. Steven looked up at him, blue eyes shining in wonder and something like hope. "Where do I need to sign then?"

They had to wait a while for Steven to be officially discharged. Steven sat on his hospital bed the entire time, twitching and holding himself around the middle protectively. Sam wasn't sure how bad the damage was to his body but Steven almost seemed used to the pain, like it didn't faze him any more. It unsettled Sam, to say the least.

When they were finally given the all clear to leave, Steven refused the wheelchair and walked unsteadily to Sam's car.

"This is fancy." He commented, grinning.

"Like I said, I've done all sorts of work." Sam opened the door for him, popping his bag into the back seat. "So, where's home?"

It turned out Steven lived in a small council flat. Sam bit his tongue, not wanting to appear over-zealous in his concern. He allowed Steven to walk ahead of him, opening the door while Sam carried his bag behind him, other hand outstretched should Steven fall. He didn't let him see.

It wasn't as bad as Sam had expected inside. It was… homely. Sam's eyes were immediately drawn to the pictures of two young children with their happy, smiling faces.

"Your kids?" Sam asked, picking up one of the frames to get a closer look.

"Yep." Steven said, collapsing onto the sofa.

Sam felt warmth in his stomach at the sight of them. Grandkids. He was a _granddad. _He smiled goofily, feeling elated. When he replaced the picture, he saw Steven looking at him fondly.

Before another word was spoken, there was a sudden knock on the front door. Steven closed his eyes, the set of his jaw informing Sam he knew who his visitor was.

"Ste!" A male, American voice called.

"Could you let him in?" Steven asked quietly.

"Who is he?" Sam asked, halfway to the door.

"My… ex." Steven said carefully. "Not _that _ex." He added hastily, wincing. "This should be fun…"

The moment Sam opened the door, the American stormed in, barely registering him.

"Doug." Steven said by way of greeting, attempting to pull himself up.

"You're back then." Doug said, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Looks that way."

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

Silence fell. Steven stared at Doug coolly, as if contemplating his next words carefully.

"It was an accident."

"Oh, was it now?" Doug's anger was beginning to seep through. Sam had the distinct impression that he wasn't the dangerous, intimidating sort. He wasn't sure what sort he was though, admittedly.

"Yeah. I was smoking, right and-"

"Smoking!" Doug puffed up self-righteously. "Again? In _our _deli?"

"Maybe you should calm down a bit." Sam cut in. Doug whirled on him, as if only just noticing his presence.

"Who are you?"

"I'm…" Sam trailed off, looking to Steven for cues. He nodded almost imperceptibly. "Steven's father."

"His… father?" Doug looked between the two of them in astonishment. "You never said you knew who your father was."

"I didn't until about a week ago." Steven replied reasonably. "Listen, I've only just got out of hospital. Can this lecture wait?"

Doug's face flushed. "No, not really. The insurance company will want to know what happened. They won't pay out if it was deliberate."

"Well it _wasn't_." Steven told him, exasperated. "You do believe me, don't you?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Ste. This past year you've not been yourself. I've been giving you the benefit of the doubt for a while, sticking up for you when others wouldn't-"

"Should I be grateful or something?" Steven cut in, agitated. "I've had a bad year, alright?"

"Well I know that." Doug said, softer now. "But this… this is too far."

"It was an accident!" Steven argued, raising his voice. "What more can I say?"

"Do you even care that the deli's gone? After everything we worked towards to get it up and running?"

"After everything _we _did? Who provided the money, Doug?"

Doug's mouth pressed into a firm line. "I'm not having this conversation with you. I came here to tell you I'm done."

"Done?" Steven repeated vaguely.

"With all this, us. When the deli's up and running again, I don't want you near it."

Sam couldn't bite his tongue at that. "He has rights." He said firmly.

"And what are you? His lawyer?"

"If need be." Sam said, straightening himself to his full height.

"I have no problem giving him what he's owed but I don't want him in that deli anymore, alright?"

"You know what, Doug?" Steven said, teeth bared. He managed to make himself stand. "I don't want to be a part of that fucking deli anymore, yeah? You can have it."

"Steven-" Sam interjected.

"Don't push it." Steven said bitingly. "You barely know me, right?"

Sam swallowed his protests, nodding.

"I wish things had been different." Doug said, looking drained.

"So do I." Steven said, seating himself again. "But life ain't a fucking fairy tale, is it? Sooner you realise that, the better."

Doug bowed his head, hiding the hurt on his face. "I guess there's nothing more to say then."

"I guess not." Steven mumbled, not looking up. Eventually Doug let himself out.

"Can I get you anything?" Sam asked after a few moments of silence.

"You can leave." Steven said, crossing his arms.

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you." Sam said.

"I don't need anyone to take care of me." Steven said bitterly. "It's not like you'll stick around in the long run."

"I will-"

"Don't bother. Just go, yeah?" Steven looked up at him, eyes dark and rimmed with red. Sam had the impression this wasn't about Doug.

"If that's what you want." He said, disappointed.

"It is." Steven turned his face away, expression hard.

Sam didn't hear from Steven again until a few days later. It was late one evening when Sam was about to eat his dinner. Ready meal for one. He jumped at the sound of his phone, answering immediately.

"Hello?"

"Sam?" Steven's voice sounded strained. "You busy?"

"No, not at all." Sam said, alert. "What's up?"

"I fell… in the bath." Steven said carefully. He sounded like he was in pain.

"I'll be right over." Sam said, hanging up and abandoning his dinner.

The door was on the latch; a point Sam would need to make to Steven later. He hurried inside, calling out Steven's name.

"In here!" Steven replied weakly. Sam located the bathroom, pushing the door open carefully. Steven had managed to get a robe around himself but he was sitting at an awkward angle on the floor.

"I told you." Sam said as he wrapped an arm around Steven's waist and gently helped him to his feet.

Steven winced in pain. "I thought I could cope. Hay's never ask for help." He frowned then. "Usually anyway."

"Spencer's do." Sam told him, helping him out of the room. "Which is your bedroom?"

Steven pointed the way, leaning heavily against Sam. He helped him into bed, pulling the covers over him. Steven leaned back against the pillows, breathing out in relief.

"Thanks. Lucky I took my phone in there with me."

"It was lucky." Sam said, sitting on the edge of his bed the same way he had at their first meeting. "Listen, I don't think I should leave you alone tonight."

Steven bowed his head. "I guess not."

"I'll just close that door," He said pointedly, giving Steven a look. "And then I can make us some dinner, how's that?"

"Alright." Steven agreed. Sam stood up briskly and was halfway out of the room before Steven spoke again. "I shouldn't have sent you away before, sorry."

"You don't need to apologise to me." Sam said dismissively. "I'm just glad you called, even if there isn't anyone else."

"There used to be." Steven said quietly, an odd, glazed look in his eyes.

"Well, there's me now." Sam said, smiling. "I don't plan on going anywhere."

Steven looked up, eyes bright once more. "I'll hold you to that." He said a little unsteadily.

Sam spent the night in the spare bedroom. He left his door slightly ajar in case Steven needed anything in the night. He'd made them lasagne for dinner, his speciality. Steven had been quiet, picking at his food. Sam wanted to ask what was wrong but wasn't entirely sure it was his place to. After dinner when Steven had gone to watch television, Sam had looked at some of his other photos. Slipped behind one of Leah and Lucas was a picture of a man with Steven. His hair was dark, almost black, and he had a moustache. The most startling thing about the photograph was how happy they both looked. The man in the picture must have been in his thirties but with Steven by his side, notably younger, it was difficult to tell. Steven's smile was bright, content. Like he'd been waiting his entire life for a picture like this one. Sam shook himself, feeling foolish for interpreting a simple photograph so deeply.

As he lay in bed, the flat eerily silent around him, he wondered what had happened to this mysterious man and whether he would ever come back for Steven. The poor lad was clearly lonely, with no real friends of his own. Sam thought of Doug and the obvious tension between them. He thought it was safe to ask about him so the next day at breakfast he breached the topic.

Steven shrugged, spooning his cornflakes around his bowl dejectedly. "We weren't together that long, almost a year. We got married, it was a mistake. We got divorced. Not really been the same since." Steven told the sorry tale with limited emotion.

"I can see why. He's not exactly the friendly sort, coming round here and shouting at you when you'd just gotten out of hospital."

Steven shook his head. "He's not really like that, or he didn't used to be. He's just tired of being treated like crap."

"I'm sure you have your reasons." Sam said reasonably.

Steven looked up at him then, smiling for the first time that morning.

"What?" Sam asked, thinking he'd missed the joke.

"You're like a proper dad, defending me no matter what. It's weird."

"Weird in a good way?" Sam asked hopefully.

Steven's smile faltered a little before he replied. "Yeah, I guess. Never had a parent who cared before."

"At the hospital, when you mentioned Pauline." Sam began awkwardly. "You told me you weren't in contact with her."

"Yeah, what of it?" Steven shifted in his seat guiltily.

"I know she's dead, Steven."

Steven looked down at his lap, mouth turned in on itself. "I didn't wanna talk about it."

"Steven," Sam reached his hand across the table to gain his attention. "I understand, you know I do. When my wife… passed away, it felt like my whole world fell apart. I could barely speak to my friends or colleagues about it. I can't imagine what it must have been like, doing it on your own."

Steven glanced up, eyes a little moist. "Did she suffer, your wife?"

Sam blinked, surprised at the question.

"A little, towards the end. They made her as comfortable as possible."

"Did you ever feel like…" Steven trailed off.

"Like?"

"It would have been better to finish it for her? Because of all the pain she must have been feeling?"

Sam stared at him thoughtfully. "It definitely crossed my mind. But she would never ask me to do that. She knew the effect it would have had on me and the rest of my life."

"Right." Steven said shortly.

"Why do you ask?" Sam asked curiously.

"Just wondered, that's all." Steven abandoned his breakfast, scraping his chair back.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Steven paused. "No, you're alright. I have some things to take care of today, could you help me?"

"Yes, of course. What are they?"

"The hospital gave me all these forms; I don't really understand them. Plus the stuff with the deli, I probably need to give a statement."

"Am I really your lawyer now then?" Sam laughed, taking their bowls to the sink.

"You did a law degree didn't you?"

"I did."

"Then you're hired." Steven said with a small twist of his mouth.

Over the next few weeks, Sam began to get to know Steven. They started small at first, getting to know each other on a basic level. Eventually they went deeper, discussing Steven's childhood, or lack thereof, and Sam's attempts to contact him. Even before the DNA test had been done, Steven put an incredible amount of trust in Sam and his opinion.

Sam sorted out all of his paperwork for him, even checking some of their accounts from the deli. Doug wasn't happy with the intrusion but as long as Steven owned the deli, he had no say in it.

They didn't talk about Steven's ex. The most Sam found out about him in those initial first months together were that his name was Brendan and he was in prison for murder. He'd been hard pressed to disguise the shock on his face when Steven eventually let that piece of information slip. They'd known each other for a few months then and Sam could guess by his mood that he didn't want to be pressed on the details.

Six months after they'd first met, Steven asked Sam to move in with him.

Sam hadn't even needed to consider it. Sure, the flat wasn't ideal but Steven was comfortable and happy there so he never questioned it. He took the room that Steven told him had once been Amy's. Sam had already met Amy and the kids by then. Amy had been wary of him at first but when he'd been upfront about his intentions, she'd soon warmed to him.

"I suppose it might be good for Ste, having someone looking out for him."

Sam nodded, feeling as though he was under some sort of test.

"He told you about Brendan I suppose?"

"Yeah, the bare minimum."

Amy pressed her lips together, lowering her voice so Steven and the kids wouldn't hear. "Probably for the best. Them two together was… toxic."

"He obviously loved him though." Sam said, glancing over at Steven holding Lucas in his lap.

"More than he's ever loved anyone, yeah." Amy said thoughtfully. "I suppose Brendan wasn't all bad really, but there was more bad than good in my books. It's for the best that he won't be coming back."

"He won't?"

"Murder charge, Sam. He'll get life, I'm sure of it."

"Who did he kill? Steven never said."

Amy leaned closer now, much warier. "His dad."

After that, Sam stopped worrying about finding out more on Brendan. He wasn't likely to return and Sam was content living with Steven as it was. He didn't want to rock the boat or upset his son unnecessarily. He knew he was in pain though, more pain than he thought Sam was aware of. Sam had only been moved in for a few days when the nightmares started. Or at least, they became known to Sam.

Steven would scream and writhe in his bed, panting heavily as though he was being held down and trapped. He'd whimper in his sleep, repeating Brendan's name like a prayer. It pained Sam to see him that way. Sometimes when Steven would wake afterwards, shaking and crying in fear, he'd beg Sam to stay with him that night. Sam had his misgivings about that; he knew Steven was an adult but he sensed that a lot of his childhood had been stripped away from him. He hated the fact that he was a part of that and told himself it couldn't hurt to do it now and again, when Steven needed him.

It took a long time for Steven to call him 'Dad'. The first time he said it happened after they'd been living together a while. It had slipped out, unprovoked and suddenly laid bare between them. Steven had blinked, surprised at himself. Then he smiled.

"Guess that's it then." He said cheerfully. Sam knew then that things would be okay, as long as they had each other.

Looking back wasn't always easy, especially for Sam. He sat on Steven's bed, still clutching the note in his hand. He'd tried calling him several times but it went straight to voicemail. Brendan wasn't answering either and Sam was acutely aware of the fact his clothes were missing too. He buried his head in his hands, at a loss for what to do next.

A knock at the front door jolted him into action. He leapt up, note still in hand, and hastily flung the door open.

It wasn't Steven at the door. Sam felt his stomach drop, looking at the man in front of him instead.

"Do I know you?" He asked. There was some recognition there but he couldn't place the face.

The man grinned and it wasn't a pleasant smile. "I'm surprised you don't remember me, Sam. It's Terry. Terry Hay. Where's my son?"


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Four

When Ste walked into the flat, Brendan was sat on the sofa, head bowed and palms pressed together. He looked up sharply when Ste closed the front door behind him. His blue eyes were panicked and nervous, but he also looked determined. Ste took several, cautious steps towards him, still reeling from the argument with Sam.

"Ye okay?" Brendan asked, fingers twisting together.

"I spoke to my dad," Ste answered carefully, taking a seat next to Brendan on the sofa.

"Yeah?" Brendan glanced up and then quickly away. His shoulders were tensed up, like he couldn't relax.

"You were right," Ste said, biting his lip and looking down at the floor. "He did want to split us up."

"He told ye?"

"Eventually," Ste looked up, catching Brendan in his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Steven…" Brendan reached out to touch his face tentatively. "I told ye; ye never have to apologise to me."

"I don't want it to be like that, Bren. I want us to be equal, you know?"

Brendan twitched then, taking his hand away. "I know."

Ste looked at him strangely. "What is it?"

Brendan took a deep breath. "There's something. Something I haven't told ye."

Ste nodded, bracing himself for the news. "Is it bad?" He asked when Brendan didn't offer him anything more. "Because if it is, I'm sure we can get through it together, right?"

"Right," Brendan nodded, still twitching and holding himself stiff. "I'm scared," He breathed out unevenly, laughing a little.

Ste reached out to take his hands, gripping them tightly. "Is this why you've been acting weird? What you're about to tell me?"

Brendan nodded, hardly able to meet Ste's eyes. "It's been on my mind a lot. Since Ireland actually."

"Ireland?" Ste frowned, not understanding.

"It made me realise a few things," Brendan said, sounding the most nervous Ste had ever seen him. It was terrifying and fascinating in equal measure.

"What things?" Ste gulped, holding Brendan's hands tighter. "Are you finishing with me?"

"What?" Brendan blinked, incredulous and caught off guard. "No! No, of course I'm not. Why would ye even say that?"

"I dunno. You've just been a bit… upset lately and right now you look like you're about to tell me you're dying. Oh shit, you're not are you? Tell me you're not!"

"No, it's not that," Brendan closed his eyes, making shushing noises to calm him. "Indestructible, remember?" He laughed, voice shaking a little.

"Then what is it?" Ste pressed. "You're really scaring me now."

Brendan's body snapped to attention. He turned in the sofa, still holding Ste's hands. Ste turned with him, leaning forwards anxiously.

"I love ye," Brendan said quietly, finally able to look Ste in the eye.

"Tell me something I don't know," Ste smiled, remembering a happy time.

Brendan's face twisted, apparently too preoccupied to recall the memory.

"I want… I want to…" Brendan grinned in that odd way of his, eventually smoothing his face out and looking at Ste directly once more. "I want to marry ye."

Ste blinked. Once. Twice. He stared at Brendan for an indeterminate amount of time. Brendan reached forwards to close his mouth for him.

"Say something. Please."

"I…" Ste could barely form sentences in his mind, let alone at loud. "Sorry, what?"

"Marry me," Brendan said, a little stronger this time. Ste had never seen him like this, so completely open and vulnerable and yet happy at the same time. Nothing else compared to this.

"You want to… marry me?" Ste blinked again.

"Yes. Very much," Brendan swallowed thickly. "I've actually been arranging it for some time, on the off chance that ye might, ye know, say yes?"

"Marriage," Ste's head was swimming.

"Yeah, this time with me though, not the American," Brendan bit out a laugh. "It won't be like that. I can make ye happy, Steven."

"You say you've already been arranging it?" Ste's brain was beginning to catch up with him.

"Anne already knows, she's been helping. Ye know what she's like. Father Des too, he agreed to do it for us."

Ste's head finally cleared at those last few words. "He did? Really? That must have meant so much to you."

"It did. Mean a lot more if ye say yes though."

"I haven't said yes yet?"

"No," Brendan shook his head, smiling a little. "Good time would be now."

"Yes!" Ste said, louder than he'd intended and feeling a little foolish as a result.

When Brendan smiled though, Ste forgot all of that. The pure, unadulterated joy on his face was something Ste hadn't seen for a long time. Next thing he knew, Brendan was on top of him, kissing him all over.

"Fuck," He growled, kissing Ste so hard it knocked both of them over on the sofa. "I'm gonna fuck ye now."

"Alright," Ste said weakly, almost delirious with happiness.

Brendan hastily tugged his trousers and boxers down, grappling with Ste's legs in the process. Ste lifted his arse to accommodate him, tugging at Brendan's shirt.

"This is all so sudden," Ste gasped, once they were laid bare to each other and Brendan's hands were making their way down his body.

Brendan paused in his movements, looking at Ste quizzically.

"Not the sex," Ste said hastily. "The… proposal."

Brendan smiled then, putting his fingers inside Ste's mouth to cover them in saliva.

"Ye think?" He withdrew them slowly, brushing the tip of his finger over Ste's moistened lips.

"I mean, yeah. Before you went to prison, I wanted to ask you and everything but then Kevin and Walker, and you know…" Ste trailed off, wishing he could shut himself up but not knowing how to.

"Ye did? Ye wanted to ask me?" Brendan stared at him in wonder, hands stilled before reaching their destination.

"At the deli that night we baked bread," Ste explained quickly, feeling foolish all over again.

Brendan's expression changed to one of regret. "I didn't know."

Ste brushed him off. "How could you know? It was a mess."

"It won't be now," Brendan promised, testing one finger against Ste's entry.

"Let's talk about it afterwards," Ste breathed, sucking in air as Brendan pushed the first finger inside, the movement inside of him making an obscene sound, magnified when he entered more.

"Okay?" Brendan's fingers hooked and twisted, stretching him open.

Ste nodded, pulling Brendan by his shoulders to rest on top of him, bringing their lips together in a searing kiss. Brendan's cock nudged against him, wide enough now to slide in expertly.

Everything after that was a blur of pleasure and the tangle of bodies. Ste liked it when he felt Brendan's weight on top of him; that feeling of being completely taken; a sensation he'd only ever gotten with Brendan.

The sofa was an awkward place to fuck but Ste shifted himself as best he could, wrapping his legs around Brendan's waist and drawing him in closer and closer, feeling the hot slide of their bodies together.

"Ye do realise," Brendan whispered, breath warm against his ear. "You'll be a Brady."

Ste cried out, orgasm coiling out of him. He bucked against Brendan, dragging him in deeper. "You complete bastard," He swore, pleased when Brendan's face contorted and his own orgasm was ripped out of him.

Brendan rolled to the side, taking Ste with him so he was laid half on top of him. Their bodies were slick with sweat despite it being a cold day. Brendan trailed his fingers up and down Ste's spine, making him shiver.

"I can't believe this," Ste whispered, awestruck.

"What's that?" Brendan murmured, relaxed and drowsy as he often was after sex.

"You! Keeping this quiet for so long."

"Me? Keep a secret? Come on," Brendan flashed him a grin. "Least it's a good one, eh?"

"The best," Ste agreed, resting his head against Brendan's chest. "When?"

"When?" Brendan's hand moved to curl in Ste's hair.

"When will we… you know," Ste felt himself blush, redness spreading across his face and neck.

"Oh," Brendan moved to a seated position, pulling Ste back into his arms once they were comfortable. "I was thinking really soon actually. Like… next week."

"Next week?" Ste turned his head to stare at him. "What's the rush?"

"I don't want to waste anymore time," Brendan said softly. "We've wasted enough already."

"Is that why you asked about moving away?" Ste asked suddenly, realisation dawning on him. "Is this all a part of the fresh start?"

Brendan nodded against him. "What do ye say?"

"I'm not sure I'm ready to leave here," Ste admitted honestly. "But I am ready to marry you, sooner the better."

"Good enough for me," Brendan tilted his face towards him for a long kiss. "We better get packing then."

"What?"

"Well, we can't stay here, can we?"

"You think dad will stop us somehow?" Ste frowned.

"Maybe. I don't really want to stick around to find out."

"I guess you're right," Ste sighed, leaning forwards out of Brendan's embrace. "He'll be worried though."

"Leave him a note," Brendan came up behind him, kissing his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Saying what? 'Sorry, Dad I've run off with Brendan to elope'?"

Brendan grazed his teeth against his skin. "Maybe just the sorry part? Not that ye need to be of course."

Ste nodded. "I just hope he doesn't come after us. Where are we gonna go anyway?"

"I'll book us into a hotel," Brendan said, reaching for the laptop.

"We could go to that one we went to before."

"Which?"

Ste frowned, thinking. "Maybe that first one we went to? Better memories than the last."

"Right," Brendan said awkwardly, replacing the laptop on his lap instead of Ste.

"I'll go pack for us," Ste said, slipping his clothes back on.

"Ye want a king-size?"

"Always," Ste winked, scurrying down to the bedroom.

"Good answer," Brendan called after him, chuckling.

Within the hour, Ste had packed two bags for them and Brendan had sorted the hotel out.

"We'll call Anne on the way, let her know what's happening," Brendan said as he put their bags into the car.

"Are we having it at a church?"

"Yeah, that a problem?"

"No. Not really religious though, me."

Brendan shrugged, opening the door for him. "Doesn't matter. Father Des only asked that we have an interview with him beforehand."

"Interview?" Ste scrunched his face up, turning the heater on in the car. "Like we're going for a job or something?"

Brendan turned to him, smiling. "Have ye even had a job interview before?"

"Yeah!" Ste answered, a little too quickly. "Maybe not recently, but-"

"It's not like a job interview," Brendan cut in. "He just wants to talk to us, make sure we know what we're doing."

"And do we?" Ste asked as Brendan's car started moving.

"Who knows. But we got each other, right?"

"Right," Ste agreed, nodding.

They didn't drive far; the hotel was a good thirty minutes away. Ste remembered the first time he had gone with Brendan to one, bruises still fading on his ribs, fear and excitement coursing through him. He felt the same now but for different reasons. Brendan, as though reading his thoughts, reached across to squeeze his thigh reassuringly.

"Nearly there," He told him, looking out at the road again.

Mitzeee had been overcome with happiness at the news, informing them she absolutely had to be there for it.

"After all, I like to think I played a part in getting you together in the first place."

"Really?" Ste asked sceptically. "You mean when you became Brendan's beard, or when you unlocked the door of the office and had Rae catch us or-"

"Alright!" Mitzeee interrupted. "Point taken. I still want to be there though."

"Of course," Ste said, glancing over at Brendan. "Wouldn't do it without you."

"Naturally," Mitzeee replied breezily. "What about Sam?"

"Well we'll have to do it without him."

"Obviously. But what should I tell him if he asks where you are?"

"Just say we're safe and we'll be back soon," Ste said carefully. "Don't tell him about the wedding though." The word sounded unusual on Ste's lips. He smiled to himself, elated again.

They pulled up outside the hotel, grander than Ste remembered it being. Perhaps the first time he'd been so distracted by what they were about to do and how they would pull it off that he hadn't noticed. Brendan parked up, slipping easily out of the car and retrieving their bags. Ste hung back, unsure and a little hesitant.

"Ye coming?" Brendan poked his head in, eyes glittering in the darkness of the night.

"Sorry," Ste shook his head, stepping out of the car. The air was cold on his face, making him wince. He suddenly felt a weight on his shoulders and blinked up at Brendan, now devoid of his black coat.

"Thought ye could use it more than me," He shrugged, nonchalant. Ste smiled into the fabric, the scent of Brendan strong in his nostrils.

The woman at reception smiled at them brightly, her long, dark hair swept behind her back. She took their reservation number, giving them a coy smile when she read out loud that they'd booked the king-size suite. Brendan turned to Ste, hand firm and reassuring at the small of his back.

The room was amazing. Ste immediately bounced on the bed, messing the primly ordered covers in the process. Brendan laughed, dumping their bags by the door to join him. He pulled him underneath his body, straddling him.

"This is almost like old times," Ste smirked, wriggling a little under Brendan's weight.

"I like to think it's better though," Brendan murmured, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Obviously," Ste replied, sighing contently. "So what now?"

Brendan raised his eyebrows, slowly beginning to smile. "What do ye think?"

"Again?" Ste wasn't surprised. He felt Brendan's hand on his waist, the other holding himself upright.

"Might as well make use of the bed," Brendan gave an experimental bounce.

"We're never gonna leave it, are we?" Ste asked softly, Brendan's hands already pushing his shirt up and finding the smooth skin underneath.

"Tomorrow we do. Interview, remember?"

"Tomorrow?" Ste yelped, taken off guard.

"Is that a problem?" Brendan cocked his head to one side, hand hovering over Ste's stomach.

"No it's fine, just wasn't expecting it that soon," Ste blushed. "What if he doesn't like me?"

"Who wouldn't like _you_?" Brendan kissed him again as if demonstrating Ste's appeal.

"Yeah but he isn't gonna kiss me, is he?" Ste pointed out.

"Better not," Brendan growled, moving his lips to Ste's neck and sucking hard at his flesh.

The conversation took a different turn after that, comprised of groans and hurried instructions. Ste made good use of the bed, spreading himself out and giving Brendan free reign of his body.

By the time they were finished, Ste could feel his eyelids beginning to droop. He barely had the energy to move his body up towards the pillow; his limbs felt stretched and loose.

Brendan, in contrast, was moving freely about the room, cock dangling between his legs with all the bravado and pride he possessed. He was pouring them drinks from the mini bar having already wiped the sticky mess from Ste's stomach.

"Not tired already?" Brendan turned, seating himself at the corner of the bed and nudging Ste's foot with his knee.

"Maybe," Ste murmured into the soft, fluffy pillow.

"I thought ye were younger than me," Brendan teased. Ste heard the clink of the glasses being put on the side before he felt Brendan next to him once more.

"Someone's in a good mood," Ste noted, voice half-muffled by the pillow.

"And why not?" Brendan wrapped an arm around Ste's waist, fingers lightly trailing against his skin.

Ste's phone buzzed distantly, interrupting them. Brendan leaned across the bed to retrieve it, tucked in Ste's trousers.

"Samuel again. I thought ye were turning this thing off?"

"How many times has he called now?" Ste asked, lifting his head slightly.

"Fifteen," Brendan sighed, still holding Ste's phone.

"He's probably just worried," Ste said, frowning. "Maybe I should call him back, let him know I'm alright."

"That's up to ye," Brendan said, handing him his phone. He seemed reluctant to do so but this was the way it had to be now.

"He might come after us though," Ste said thoughtfully.

Brendan simply looked at him, not offering an opinion. Eventually he turned to take a sip of one of the drinks, handing the other to Ste.

"I guess I can call him after," Ste finally decided, switching his phone off.

"He won't be pleased," Brendan warned him.

"He isn't anyway," Ste shrugged.

Brendan took the glass from his hand, putting them to the side. "Ye wanna sleep? Talk?"

"Sleep."

"Alright," Brendan smoothed a hand through his hair, pulling him against his chest.

"Bren?" Ste asked, nose nudging against his throat.

"Mm?"

"Why do you want to marry me?"

"I thought ye wanted to sleep," Brendan replied.

"I do but… I just need to know."

Brendan pulled the covers over them, keeping his arm securely around Ste.

"Pretty obvious, isn't it?" Brendan said, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Tell me," Ste pressed, making himself comfortable.

"Well I love ye, that's certainly a start."

"But why marriage?" Ste looked up at him questioningly, feeling less tired and more alert.

"I guess I'm pretty old fashioned still," Brendan said, his chest rumbling with each word. "Plus it would be a fresh start; put everything else behind us and start again, together."

"We are together though," Ste pointed out. "But I get what you mean. More real, innit?"

"Eloquently put," Brendan laughed.

"I never expected this," Ste said truthfully. "It feels really good though."

"Always happy to hear that," Brendan pulled him closer, arms encircling him.

"I think I can sleep now," Ste yawned, burying his face further into Brendan's chest. "Night…" He paused, feeling delightfully wicked. "Hubby."


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Five

"Terry." Sam stood transfixed, unable to order the chaos forming in his mind. What was he doing here? What did he want? How would Steven react? These questions raced through his mind while his mouth attempted to create further speech. He wanted to tell Terry to get lost but something gripped him, curiosity perhaps, and kept him still.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Terry grinned, casting a look around the flat. Sam felt a shudder ripple through him; Terry's gaze somewhat intrusive in the place Sam and Steven had called home for many years.

"Now isn't a good time," Sam said, presence of mind returning as quickly as it had left. He took a definitive step back, widening the space between them. Terry's whole demeanour felt contaminating; his gaze was hard, unyielding. His clothes hung off him as if he had lost a great deal of weight in a short space of time. His face was drawn, wrinkled and pale in the low light of the hallway. It was no wonder Sam hadn't recognised him; this certainly wasn't the Terry of over twenty years ago. This was a damaged, cruel man who had learnt how to be brutal, harsh. It was there in the quirk of his mouth, the coldness in his eyes. Sam was reluctant to look at him, but he also couldn't look away.

"Oh?" Terry leaned in close; his breath stank of alcohol. The sound and smell of him jerked Sam back to the present situation. He held firm, noting the way Terry's eyes raked over him in turn, as if giving his own assessment. "Ste not here then?" He added. Sam tried to hold himself still.

"No," He said, unsuccessfully disguising the tremor in his voice at the mention of his son. Terry saw right through him, his mouth twisting unpleasantly.

"Any idea when you might be expecting him back?" Terry asked, sounding curious and light. He was anything but. Sam noted that his foot was halfway past the door; a clear statement that Sam wasn't getting out of this exchange easily.

"He's gone away," Sam said, holding himself stiff.

"Oh yeah?" Terry cocked his head to the side, almost amused.

"He won't be back for some time," Sam added, hoping Terry would get the message.

"Spoken to him have you?" Terry bared his teeth, showing Sam once more that it wasn't only the interior that was damaged beyond repair.

"Just now," Sam lied easily, touching his phone absently in his pocket.

"Why don't you call him back and tell him I'm here?" Terry challenged, inching closer inside the flat.

"Why would I do that?" The tension was building in Sam's body, close to breaking point.

Terry shrugged, grinning. "Family reunions are important, Sammy boy."

"Is that right?" Sam asked coldly. He was tiring of Terry's games.

Without warning, Terry strode into the flat, closing the door firmly behind him. Sam stepped back to accommodate him, skin crawling.

"No manners either," Terry said jovially. He seemed unhinged. Now that he was in direct light, Sam noted the fading scars on his worn skin, some deeper than others. Terry caught him looking, something dangerous flashing across his face. "Got these inside, me. I think they add character, don't you?"

"Mm." Sam inched away from him to the kitchen. He wasn't scared of Terry. If it came down to it he was sure he could take him easily in a fight. The trouble was, he couldn't do that. Not until he knew what Terry wanted with Steven. Sam wouldn't risk his son's safety if his life depended on it.

"Nice picture," Terry said suddenly, catching him off guard. He was stroking the frame of a recent one of Sam and Steven. "He's aged well, my lad. Very handsome," Terry took his hand away, curl to his lip. "Don't you think?"

"Of course, he's always been…" Sam trailed off. "What do you want, Terry?" He asked abruptly. He was going to lose it if Terry kept pushing him like this.

"I've told you, Sam. I want to speak to my son." Terry took a seat, making himself comfortable. Sam was surprised that Terry was disadvantaging himself in this way, allowing Sam to tower over him even more so.

"The thing is, Terry," Sam began, speaking very carefully. "Steven isn't your son."

"Steven is it?" Terry swiped his tongue over his lips. "Isn't that what his boyfriend calls him?"

Sam blinked, remembering a conversation long ago. Brendan had seen Terry in prison, had had him beaten up. Might even be the cause for some of Terry's scars. A feeling of dread settled in Sam's stomach. He decided to change tact.

"I can call him whatever I wish to, he's mine." Sam could hardly refrain from keeping the bite out of his voice, the possessiveness with which he claimed his son as his own. It gave him pause, assessing himself and his beliefs.

Terry didn't give him long to consider. "And who raised him? Hm?"

"No one did." Sam pointed out.

Terry's eyes flashed dangerously. "What are you trying to say?"

"I hardly think you can claim father of the century, Terry. And Pauline… well." Sam knew it was a low blow, mentioning Pauline, but it was the only bait Terry seemed to rise to.

Terry cracked his knuckles together in an attempt to be intimidating. "Don't you speak of her that way."

"Why not?" Sam stepped closer, using his extra height to his advantage. "The only thing she got right was leaving that boy in peace after she passed. At least he had me to pick up the pieces."

Terry rose to his feet in a flash, stopping short directly in front of Sam. "You think he gives a shit about you? He just wants someone to look after him; whether that's you or his cock-sucking boyfriend. He'll cast you aside first chance he gets."

Sam's jaw clenched, the words resonating something inside of him. He didn't let it show on his face.

"I think you need to leave. Now."

"Gladly," Terry snarled in his face. "You'll be hearing from me though, count on that."

"Can't wait," Sam retorted, watching as Terry swept past him to the door, slamming it on his way out.

Sam immediately collapsed onto the sofa, breathing hard. His fingers twisted in his hair, hard enough to hurt. He reached for his phone again, trying once more to contact Steven. He wasn't even sure what he'd say if he did get through. If Steven knew Terry was here he might never return. There was no use calling Brendan either; he'd want to keep the boy out of harm's way at any cost. A part of him wished for Brendan's presence though, in spite of his feelings towards the man. He might be a lot of things but his fierce loyalty towards Steven was equal to Sam's own. He had a feeling Brendan would do anything to keep Steven safe, just like Sam would.

Feeling increasingly drained, Sam laid out on the sofa, curling up into a ball. Perhaps when he woke up in the morning, Steven would have returned. Even as he thought it, he knew it wouldn't happen. Steven was angry and hurt, perhaps rightly so, and he had Brendan to look after him now. Maybe Terry was right. It was possible Steven didn't need him anymore. He was a grown man, more aware than Sam realised of what he wanted. Sam brushed his knuckles against his eyes, allowing a moment of weakness to wash over him while he was alone. The moment continued for some time though, until Sam was so exhausted he fell asleep.

Xxx

Brendan made sure that breakfast was delivered to their room later that morning. He couldn't cope with the eight am wake up call for breakfast downstairs and neither could Steven after the night they'd had. Instead they were woken just after ten by a gentle knocking on the door. Brendan slid tiredly out of bed, still half asleep and wearing only his boxers. His senses were reignited by the delicious smell of bacon, placing an entire rasher into his mouth before closing the door.

Steven was slowly waking up himself, eyes adjusting to the soft light pooling into the room across their bed. Brendan placed the breakfast tray on top of the covers, already tucking in hungrily.

"Leave some for me, yeah?" Steven smiled sleepily, reaching first for the mug of coffee on the side of the tray.

"Best get in there quick then," Brendan said around a mouthful of toast.

Steven sipped his coffee, eyes closing in contentment. "That's perfect."

"Lots of sugar then?"

"Course." Steven replaced the mug on the tray, reaching for a slice of toast. He nibbled in the middle, avoiding the sides.

"Want me to cut the crusts off for ye?" Brendan teased, nudging him in the side.

"Shut up," Steven replied haughtily, taking a large bite. "I'm not immediately hungry when I wake up, unlike you."

"Maybe ye should be," Brendan commented, eyes raking over Steven's still too slight form. "Need a bit more meat on yer bones, kid."

Steven shot him a glare, clearly not appreciating Brendan's tone. He reached for a sausage, batting Brendan's hand away when he went for the same one.

"What time we meeting Des then?" Steven asked, brushing the crumbs off his hands.

"About an hour," Brendan replied, gulping down several draughts of coffee himself.

Steven frowned then as if realising something. "Who else is coming to this wedding?"

"Besides Anne?" Steven nodded. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"We'll need more than one witness," Steven said thoughtfully. "Who would be willing to come though?

Brendan thought hard. "Cheryl would but she's got baby Brendan to think about now," Brendan said, still feeling strange about the name.

"What about your Declan?"

Brendan shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "I guess."

Steven raised his eyebrows, reading him easily. "Come on, it's not that weird, is it?"

Brendan turned to him, considering the best way to respond before he said something stupid. "Remember how I was when ye first met Declan?"

A dark shadow passed over Steven's face. "Like I was catching? Yeah, I remember."

Brendan smiled apologetically, thumbing crumbs away from Steven's cheek. "Sorry."

Steven shrugged. "In the past now, init?"

"Yeah," Brendan said softly. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask. He might find it weird though."

"I'm sure he won't," Steven sighed. "I can do it if you want."

"No, it's okay," Brendan said quickly. "I'll call him after we see Desmond."

"Speaking of which, we better get a move on." Steven finished up his breakfast, slipping out of bed with the ease of youth. Brendan caught him around the waist as he stood.

"Escaping so soon?" Brendan murmured against his ear, pulling him backwards onto the bed.

"We haven't got time," Steven whined pointlessly. Brendan's hands were already roaming.

"Time for a quickie," Brendan told him, pushing him flat out on the bed.

Steven grinned, amused and fond, slowly spreading his legs. Brendan hastily stripped himself of his boxers, reaching for Steven's cock nestled between his thighs.

"Straight to business, yeah?" Steven asked, biting his lip.

Brendan leant forwards, brushing his lips against Steven's, cock still firmly grasped in his hand.

"Any complaints?"

"No chance," Steven said, voice low.

Brendan grabbed some lube from the bedside table and spread it liberally over himself and Steven, allowing enough to remain on his fingers to coax and stretch him open.

Steven's hands rested against his chest, fingers curling around the dark hairs there. His blue eyes were glazed over with lust and desperation, pulling Brendan in deeper when he finally entered him, something intense and unspoken flashing between them.

Brendan's palms slid down Steven's legs, hairs soft and thick to the touch. He felt the twitch of his muscles as he pressed his body against him, giving over some of his weight. Steven liked to feel him that way sometimes; he told him the idea of Brendan solid and real on top of him was a sensation that had never faded, even when he was gone. Brendan relished that; the secret, old part of him revelling in the fact that no other man had made Steven feel this way, that Brendan's cock was forever ingrained inside of him.

Steven arched up, pushing against Brendan with all his strength, the pressure of Brendan filling him almost too much to bear.

"It's okay," Brendan whispered against him, body shaking and sweating with exertion.

Steven shifted his hips, taking a moment to breathe.

"Is it too much?" Brendan tilted his head to the side. Steven was often easy to read in these situations. Brendan knew what to give him and how much to take. He knew when to slow down and when to speed up. There were always clues in Steven's body; the depth of his moans, the twitches in his muscles. Sometimes when he wanted to reach breaking point he would clench internally, Brendan engulfed and trapped inside, the two of them riding out their orgasm together.

Mostly it was easy because Steven was so _vocal_. He wasn't afraid to ask for what he wanted, in life and in sex. It was one of the many things Brendan loved about him. Even at the very beginning he'd been that way. He had a way of drawing people in. Vulnerability mixed with tenacity. Brendan couldn't be more fond if he tried.

"What you looking at?" Steven asked, Brendan still buried deep inside of him.

"What do ye think?" Brendan smiled, easing himself out carefully and grabbing some tissue he'd left earlier to help clean Steven up.

Steven winced a little. "Bit tender," He laughed.

"Bath?"

Steven shook his head, reaching for his phone. "Not enough time. After though."

"Okay," Brendan cupped his face, smoothing his thumb over his jaw.

Steven grinned then, realisation lighting up his face. "We're going to church."

"Yeah?" Brendan asked slowly, not catching on.

"And we've just done that." Steven laughed, pushing himself up.

"Jesus," Brendan muttered, bringing his cross to his lips.

"Calm down, we're only human." Steven reached for his clothes, spraying himself with body spray first and giving Brendan a one-shouldered shrug. "Might help."

Brendan gestured for it too, dousing himself in the scent. He wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"Not my usual."

"Now you'll smell like me." Steven grinned, kissing Brendan wetly on the lips.

"Already do." Brendan pointed out, pulling his shirt over his head and tucking his phone and wallet into his trousers. "Ready?"

Steven nodded as he stood, giving his arse a rub. "I hope they have cushions on the seats."

As it turned out, they did. Steven still shifted uneasily beside him, trying to keep the pillow in place.

"What's the point in this, eh? Why not get sofas in here rather than these hard benches?"

Brendan rolled his eyes, offering no reply. The moment he spotted Father Des coming towards them he stood abruptly, giving Steven a nudge to do the same. Steven grumbled a little, arm brushing Brendan's as he stood. Des smiled warmly at them, holding out a hand for Brendan to take.

"Nice to see you, Brendan."

"Likewise." Brendan gave a fleeting smile, glancing at Steven nervously.

"And you must be Steven," Des said, shaking Steven's hand.

"Ste." Steven corrected unnecessarily. It made Des smile knowingly.

"Please, take a seat."

Steven shot Brendan a look before doing so, not quite still beside him.

"Thank you for coming to see me," Des said softly, glancing between the two of them.

"Didn't really have a choice though." Steven pointed out, always upfront.

"Steven," Brendan hissed under his breath.

"It's alright, Brendan." Des laughed, holding up a placating hand. "He's quite right. You aren't a regular at church are you, Ste?"

Brendan twitched a little at the name change but said nothing.

"My parents weren't really into all that." Steven shrugged. "Maybe if they had they'd have been better people."

Des stared at him thoughtfully. "Brendan tells me you've recently found your biological father."

Steven gave Brendan a look. "Of course he did."

Des didn't miss a beat. "Does he know about your intention to marry?"

Steven looked at his hands guiltily. "No."

"You don't think he'd approve?" Des asked gently.

"I know he wouldn't," Steven said, tension forming in the press of his mouth. "He's been trying to split us up."

"Sometimes parents do what they think is right for their children, even if their children don't necessarily agree."

"It feels right," Steven blurted out, smiling apologetically. "With Brendan I mean. Getting married and all that."

"Glad to hear it," Des smiled. "How do you feel about it, Brendan?"

"Relieved," Brendan answered truthfully. "Scared."

"It's a big commitment to make to another person," Des said. "It isn't for everyone. What urged you to ask Steven to marry you?"

Now it was Brendan's turn to look uncomfortable. "Like Steven said, it feels right. I want us to be at a place where we're equal, together."

Des nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. "And who would you like as your witnesses?"

"Is that it?" Steven piped up, a little surprised. "You aren't going to ask us anything else? Get us to take a test or something?"

Des laughed. "Of course not. I'm satisfied, as I was before I even spoke to the two of you, that you're doing this for the right reasons."

"I was married before," Steven said. "It didn't work out."

"I've heard," Des replied. "We can't always expect to be correct in our convictions of the time."

"I think…" Steven trailed off, glancing quickly at Brendan as if for permission.

"Go on," Brendan prompted, voice soft.

"I think with Doug, it was like I believed in that security. I thought it was what I wanted but deep down I knew it really wasn't."

"We all make mistakes," Des said kindly. "It's when we choose to learn from them that we're truly tested."

"I love him," Steven said, flushing. "I want this to be it, just me and him."

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Des said, looking between the two of them once more. "We have a few technical details to arrange but other than that I'm happy to perform the ceremony at your discretion."

"Thank ye," Brendan bowed his head briefly before meeting Des' gaze. "For everything."

Des nodded, accepting his thanks graciously. "Now, when were you planning on doing this?"

"As soon as possible," Brendan said quickly. "I just need to get our witnesses and we're sorted. Everything else has been taken care of."

"I have time free tomorrow, if it's convenient."

"Tomorrow?" Brendan repeated, glancing quickly at Steven.

"Wow, that soon?" Steven asked.

"We're a small congregation and Brendan specified he'd like an evening ceremony. I made arrangements for that particular slot, should he be inclined to take it."

"If ye don't mind," Brendan added quickly to Steven. This was all on him now; Brendan would do whatever he wished.

Steven chewed on his bottom lip, considering. Of course he had a lot to think about. Years of loving Brendan, of being let down and abandoned by him, the decision couldn't possibly come easy to him. It was too much pressure. Brendan opened his mouth to offer an alternative until Steven spoke over him, eyes shining brightly.

"Tomorrow it is."


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Six

Ste stared at his phone, noting both the date and the display picture. Four years ago today everything had changed. He wondered if Brendan had planned it this way or if it was a coincidence. Ste squinted at the sky, the sun still present despite the chill in the air. It didn't feel like December at all; so much had happened in the few months Brendan had returned. A lot more had changed since that fateful day in Dublin.

"Steven?" Brendan walked out from the church, leather jacket tight over his broad shoulders. "Why are ye out here?" He settled down beside him, leg brushing against Ste's.

"Thinking," Ste said, glancing briefly in his direction.

"Not having doubts are ye?" Brendan asked, ducking his head to get a closer look at Ste's face.

"Don't be soft," Ste snorted, pulling his jacket over his cold hands. "Do you know what the date is?"

Brendan paused, considering. "Can't say I do, no."

Ste showed him his phone, looking at him carefully for his reaction. The recognition came, Brendan's eyes finding Ste's and locking.

"Shit."

"I know."

"Ah, Steven…" Brendan knocked his knee gently with his own. "I'm not good with dates anymore, ye know that. Prison was one long stretch and every day felt like a memory lost."

"That's pretty poetic for you." Ste grinned at him.

"Yeah well, don't get used to it." Brendan grunted.

"It's okay; I didn't realise either." Ste was about to tuck his phone back into his pocket until Brendan caught his wrist.

"What was that picture?"

Ste showed him, feeling himself flush. "I found it a few days ago, do you remember?"

Brendan took the phone from his hands. "Dublin."

"What was it you just said about memories lost?" Ste smiled, taking the phone out of Brendan's hands.

"Is everything okay?" Brendan murmured.

"Do you ever wonder what could have happened if we'd stayed in Dublin?"

Brendan stared straight ahead, looking pensive. "Every day."

"Maybe…" Ste trailed off, swallowing what he was about to say.

Brendan looked at him quizzically, opening his mouth to question him until a taxi pulled up.

Ste looked up sharply, for some reason feeling panicked. He glanced quickly at Brendan before standing up, braced.

Mitzeee swung out of the taxi, wearing the most ridiculous heels Ste had ever seen her wear. She grabbed him for support and Ste grabbed Brendan for the same.

"I'll never forgive you for this," She said, wagging her perfectly manicured finger at them.

"What?" Ste asked.

"Making this wedding so short notice! It wasn't easy finding the right outfit."

Brendan rolled his eyes, helping Phoenix out of his seat belt. "We offer our sincerest apologies. How incredibly selfish of us," He said dryly.

"Apology accepted." Mitzeee grinned, patting his face affectionately.

"What's this?" Brendan lifted Phoenix into his arms, bringing him into the light.

"That's my son, thank you very much."

"What is he _wearing_?"

"It's a bow tie silly." Phoenix tapped him on the head.

"It's a bit… colourful," Ste muttered.

"It's a gay wedding, of course it's colourful!" Mitzeee chastised, steadying herself on the pavement. She opened her coat, revealing a coloured dress to rival Phoenix's bow tie.

"Are those matching?" Brendan asked, horrified. "You'll give the kid a complex."

"Shut up." Mitzeee took Phoenix from him.

"I like it." Phoenix poked his tongue out at Brendan.

"That's you told." Ste laughed. Mitzeee put him down, tottering dangerously on her heels. "Were those really necessary?"

"They're brand new!" Mitzeee scolded him.

"You don't understand." Phoenix said, hands on his hips.

"You heard him." Mitzeee winked.

"As much fun as this is…" Brendan glanced behind them to the church's entrance.

"Who else is coming?" Mitzeee asked, kneeling down to straighten Phoenix's bow tie.

"Declan should be on his way." Ste told her. "We need to get dressed, Bren."

"You aren't even dressed yet?" Mitzeee said in some surprise.

"My suit's itchy." Ste explained.

"And what are you wearing?" Mitzeee asked Brendan.

"Wait and see." He winked, placing his hand on Ste's back. "Go inside and get comfortable, yeah?" He added.

"If you insist." Mitzeee flicked her hair behind her, taking Phoenix by the hand with some difficulty considering the height of her heels.

"Life and soul that one," Brendan murmured to Ste. "Do ye think Deccy will make it?" He glanced around anxiously.

"Course he will." Ste reassured him, touching his arm gently. "Maybe we should go get ready though."

"Alright." Brendan agreed, absently touching Ste's stomach and chest.

Father Des gave them his private chambers to change in. Ste was a little unnerved by how ordered the place was. It smelt musty, like an old people's home. Brendan laughed when he voiced that opinion out loud.

Ste was half dressed when he felt Brendan's hands on his waist. He didn't have any trousers on yet, his black socks the only visible clothing on his legs.

"Can I help you?" Ste teased, not turning. Brendan smoothed his hands underneath Ste's white shirt, fingers brushing against his skin. He felt his moustache tickling the

nape of his neck when he kissed there, breath hot and familiar.

"Do ye have any idea how enticing ye are like this?" Brendan spoke against Ste's skin.

"You tell me." Ste challenged, turning in Brendan's arms and bracing himself against the table at his back.

Brendan kissed him instead, hands tangling themselves in Ste's hair. Ste gasped into his mouth, pressing himself against Brendan's leg.

"Easy." Brendan pulled away enough to speak, eyes half-lidded with desire.

Ste re-established himself in the room, blinking to clear his head. "Oops."

Brendan chuckled, pressing his mouth against Ste's one last time. "Later." He promised.

They turned away from each other to dress after that, Ste tugging his trousers over his hips and wobbling in the process. He fiddled with his tie, tying it in unhelpful knots in his nerves.

"Here." Brendan turned him around, fingers unravelling the tie and doing it again properly. Ste swallowed, keeping perfectly still. Brendan took a step back when he was done, eyes raking over Ste's form head to toe. "Jesus," he murmured.

"What?" Ste fiddled with his suit jacket.

"Incredible," Brendan said very softly. Ste blushed immediately, looking away.

"Shut up."

"Look in the mirror." Brendan told him, steering him in the right direction.

Ste looked at himself, self-consciously patting his hair down at the crown of his head. Brendan had chosen the suits a while ago. Ste's was black and drawn in at the waist with a white shirt underneath. He had to admit it was the nicest suit he'd ever worn, even with the itchiness.

Brendan's in contrast was more open at the waist and shoulders to accommodate his form. Both of their ties were sleek and black. Looking at the two of them in the mirror was a surreal experience that Ste wasn't likely to forget in a hurry.

"This is crazy." He voiced out loud. Brendan's lips quirked into a smile.

"Good kinda crazy?"

Ste nodded, grin spreading across his face. There was a steady knock at the door, making Ste jump involuntarily.

"I'll go see who it is," Brendan said, striding purposefully away from him. When he didn't immediately return Ste followed him out only to breathe with relief when he saw Declan wrapped up in Brendan's arms.

"You made it," Ste said, clapping him happily on the back.

"Wouldn't miss it." Declan grinned, looking at the two of them with something like pride.

"Are you ready, Brendan?" Father Des was behind Declan. Mitzeee and Phoenix were already seated at the front. The main doors were closed with a great sense of finality. Ste took a deep breath to steady himself. "And you, Ste?"

Ste nodded, looking at Brendan determinedly. "Let's do this."

Xxx

Sam found himself in Steven's bedroom a few days later, balling his hands into fists and willing himself to not go rooting through his son's belongings.

When Sam had first moved in with him his room had been stripped of personal effects, bar pictures of Amy and the kids. Now it was littered with mementos of Brendan, as though everything had been unearthed since his return. His son was vulnerable to love, just like Sam had been. The part of him that didn't resent their relationship wished them happiness, wherever they were. If seeing Terry and losing Steven's trust had taught him anything in the last few days it was that his son's happiness was more important than Sam's own personal feelings on the matter.

In spite of this epiphany, Sam was still tempted to ransack his room and attempt to find clues as to where they might be. He'd seen Mitzeee earlier but she'd jumped straight into a taxi before he was able to speak to her. He hadn't heard anything more from Terry. He was probably lying low somewhere until Steven returned.

As much as Sam wanted to will Steven to stay away, he couldn't ignore the part of him that yearned for his return. He missed him already. Their past few years together had given him the belief that they would never be parted again and now that they were, it was almost physically impossible to bear.

He remained seated on Steven's bed, clutching the picture he'd found on the dresser. Brendan and Steven, smiling and happy and written on the back in Steven's untidy handwriting: _Dublin, best day ever. _

Xxx

Brendan was having an out of body experience. That was the only explanation for what was happening. He couldn't believe that he was here, marrying Steven in front of his son. The Brendan of old would have recoiled at the very thought but this Brendan, the one he had become, embraced it wholeheartedly.

Steven was bright and jittery on his feet, hardly able to keep still. The church was eerily quiet save Desmond's rumbling voice, reading from a text Brendan had always thought condemned him but was now giving him his salvation.

Mitzeee and Declan sat with Phoenix in-between them, the three of them engrossed and smiling so much Brendan was sure their faces would soon ache. It was only when Steven's grin grew wider that Brendan realised he himself was smiling, in a glazed, unfiltered manner. He shook his head, bringing himself back to the moment at hand and yet the smile remained, permanently fixed on his face.

"Brendan," Father Des looked to him first, smiling encouragingly. It was time to say his vows. Perhaps stupidly, he hadn't prepared anything. He'd spent many a night prior to this day wracking his brain for the right thing to say but nothing seemed right, seemed _enough_. Brendan swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping that he'd find the right words now. He looked at Steven, fixing him with a steady gaze. He blocked everything else out around him and focused only on Steven.

"You okay?" Steven whispered when he didn't say anything.

Brendan nodded, shaking himself again. "Steven," he said, smiling to himself at the familiar taste of his name on his lips. "It's not easy for us like it is for other people. I can't say that it was love at first sight, or that we got there in the end because it isn't true." Brendan absently touched Steven's hand. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to relax and be like everyone else, to expect ye to be there every day without fail, to think that we're going to be together always. I can only promise ye the same thing I did years ago," Brendan stepped closer, looking into Steven's eyes. "Every day until I'm in my grave you'll always be in my head, Steven. That isn't a sentiment, that's a promise. No matter what, it was always you. Even when there was heat beneath the hatred, tears and bruises and more pain than anyone should have to go through, it was always this, always us. I could spend the rest of my life trying to make up to ye everything that we've been through but I think we'd run out of time," Brendan smiled. "There is no one else, okay? Ever."

Brendan blinked, re-positioning himself in the room. Steven had tears in his eyes, one shining drop escaping him which Brendan smoothed away with his thumb. "I love you," He said, breathy and so quiet he was sure only Steven could hear.

Steven gave a small nod, looking first to Father Des for confirmation and then to Brendan.

"Err, to be honest I didn't even know about this until a few days ago," Steven gave a nervous, honking laugh. "But when Brendan was inside I had a lot of time to think about stuff and I used to dream about all this happening. When we got together in Dublin I didn't really think it was a real possibility. I wanted it, of course I did, but I didn't really believe in marriage anymore and I thought we were okay as we were. Then one night in the deli when we baked bread together it felt… momentous." Brendan mouthed the word along with him. "And after that I really wanted it. Things always seemed to get in the way though and the dream got further and further away. Love isn't like what they tell you. It isn't always warm and sweet and it's definitely not easy." Steven bowed his head briefly before looking up again. "I used to think there was a certain way you had to be. When I thought I was straight it was almost easy to pretend that I didn't have those feelings until Brendan brought them out of me. He taught me so much about myself and I don't think he'll ever fully realise what he means to me." Steven let out a shaky breath then. "I'm talking like he isn't even here! I got used to that, you know…" He frowned a little. "I know you said you can't relax but I can for both of us. It feels different this time. All I'd ever wanted was for you to be honest with yourself and to other people and you've done all that and more. Now I just want you to love me, that's all. Because I don't think it's possible for a person to love someone as much as I love you. If there is I'll be having words." Steven grinned, eyes still shining.

Brendan stepped forwards, distantly hearing Father Des confirm everything and instructing them to kiss. Brendan didn't need to be told. Steven stood firm, miles away from the young boy who had cowered and braced himself to be kissed. Brendan reached forward with his hand, cupping Steven's jaw and drawing him close. Their lips met like they always did: possessively. The only difference now was that the possession was confirmed and it didn't have to feel degrading, they were each others in the right way, and that was it.


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Seven

Sam decided it was time to open the club again; he was tired of hiding away from the world with only his thoughts for company. He stopped by Mitzeee's on the way there, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited. She opened the door abruptly with her coat on, as if she'd only just gotten home. Her eyes flashed anxiously but she recovered well, plastering a bright smile on her face.

"Sam, what's up?"

"I was wondering if you could work tonight," Sam began carefully, noting the way Mitzeee was dressed. He felt himself flush. "You look…" He trailed off, gazing at the ceiling.

Mitzeee fiddled nervously with her hair. "I can work, just give me an hour to sort out childcare."

Phoenix stepped up behind her then, wearing a suit and bow tie. Sam blinked, perplexed.

"Well look at you!" He said enthusiastically, bending down to Phoenix's level. "That's quite the bow tie, young man."

"Thank you," Phoenix answered shyly.

He straightened up again. "You been somewhere nice?"

"A wedding," Mitzeee said automatically. "Old friends, they aren't from around here."

"Oh, that must have been nice for you," Sam said awkwardly. "I haven't been to a wedding in years myself."

"It was… a long time coming," Mitzeee said, looking uncomfortable. "How are you doing? Without Ste?" She added.

Sam deflated, leaning against the doorframe for support. "It's not easy; I just hope he's okay."

"You look worried." Mitzeee frowned, looking at him more intently. "Is something wrong?"

Sam glanced behind himself warily. "Could I come in? It's rather… private."

"Yeah, sure," Mitzeee said, stepping back.

Sam settled on Mitzeee's sofa while she made them both a strong coffee. She handed him a mug, his fingers brushing the back of her hand in the process. Her skin felt warm to the touch and for once she didn't startle from the unexpected contact. Sam didn't like to unsettle her but she'd always seemed increasingly wary of him, especially since Brendan had returned.

She sat on the opposite chair, leaning forwards with her mug in her hand.

"What is it?" She asked, voice hushed to a near whisper. A strand of hair fell into her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear hurriedly, exposing the line of her cheek.

Sam blinked, distracted momentarily. "It's Steven," He began, swallowing as the realisation hit him again in the gut.

"Is he okay?" Mitzeee asked. It seemed strange, considering she'd probably heard from him when Sam hadn't. He pushed it aside.

"For now," He said without thinking. He continued quickly when Mitzeee appeared alarmed. "His step father is back."

Mitzeee absorbed the news, licking her teeth nervously. "His step dad?"

"You know of him?"

She shook her head, troubled. "Only that he's scum."

"That's right. He beat Steven and his mother when he was a child."

Mitzeee pursed her lips. "What does he want?" She straightened, her momentary panic passing before Sam's eyes. She was strong; Sam admired that in her, always had.

"He wants to speak to Steven."

"What for?" Mitzeee asked sharply.

"I don't know," Sam admitted, feeling helpless. He placed his mug on the side and clasped his hands together in front of him, his body wired with tension.

"Have you told him?"

"He's not taking my calls." Sam glanced up then, catching her guilty expression. "Have you spoken to him?"

"Yeah, he's fine. He doesn't want you to worry." Mitzeee wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Is he coming back?"

Mitzeee nodded, turning her face away from him.

"You mustn't tell him about Terry."

Mitzeee's gaze snapped to his. "Why? He has a right to know what he's coming home to."

"What if he doesn't?" Sam felt the words spill out before he could control them.

"Doesn't what?" Mitzeee asked slowly.

"Want to come home," Sam explained in a rush.

"Because of Terry?"

"Amongst other things."

Mitzeee chewed on her bottom lip, contemplating his words. "He should know still," She said eventually.

Sam bowed his head, feeling reluctant to agree even though he knew she was right.

"Brendan though…" Mitzeee trailed off uncertainly.

"How will he react?" Sam asked, genuinely curious.

Mitzeee met his gaze briefly. "How do you think?" She murmured.

They sat in silence for a while, both wrapped up in their own thoughts. Eventually Phoenix caught their attention, climbing up onto the sofa beside Mitzeee.

"What's wrong, Mummy?"

Mitzeee blinked, immediately collecting herself. "Nothing, sweetheart. We'd best get you changed for Nancy's."

"I want to stay with you," Phoenix wrapped his arms around her waist, holding on tight. "You're sad."

"Don't worry about coming in, I'll call someone else," Sam said quickly, standing up.

"I don't mind, Sam," Mitzeee said. She didn't sound entirely sure.

"Stay with your son," Sam said softly, attempting a smile. "It's no bother."

Mitzeee hesitated before nodding. Sam smiled tightly at her, heading for the door.

"Wait," Mitzeee called him back. Sam turned in surprise. "Stay with us a bit." She smiled kindly at him, still wary but genuine.

"You sure?"

Mitzeee nodded. "You can get cover, can't you? I'll make us dinner."

"I'd like that," Sam said, clearing his throat. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She smiled again, more relaxed this time.

"Would you like me to help?" Sam asked after Mitzeee had spent some time in the kitchen preparing dinner.

"Oh," She glanced up quickly as though surprised he was there. "You could keep an eye on dinner while I put Phoenix to bed."

"I had McDonalds on the way home," Phoenix said proudly.

Sam raised his eyebrows at Mitzeee who blushed a little, the extra colour making her even more beautiful.

"You didn't fancy it?" Sam asked, moving towards the kitchen.

"They don't sit right with me," Mitzeee explained. "More of a Burger King girl myself." Her eyes sparkled playfully.

"I'm not judging." Sam held up his hands, laughing a little.

"Better not be," Mitzeee said quietly, lips quirking into a smirk. "I'll just be a minute," She added, taking Phoenix by the hand.

Phoenix stopped short, turning back as though forgetting something. "Night, Sam," He said softly, hands over his mouth.

"Goodnight," Sam replied, feeling oddly touched.

Sam stood alone in the kitchen while he waited for Mitzeee's return. Her phone flashed from its place on the table moments after she left. Sam saw the name out of the corner of his eye: _Ste. _He felt himself seized with indecision, caught between desperately wanting to speak to his son and not wanting to destroy Mitzeee's trust. He hesitated, moving back and forth several times before he eventually moved out of the kitchen and sat back down. Mitzeee came out through the bedroom door a few minutes later.

"Everything okay?" She asked immediately, noticing Sam's tense posture.

"Your phone rang."

Mitzeee glanced quickly at the table. "Did you answer?"

"Of course not," Sam said levelly.

Mitzeee checked the screen, her face pinching with worry. "You wanted to though."

"Yes," Sam replied honestly.

Mitzeee tapped out a quick message, replacing her phone on the table when she had done so.

"Dinner's almost ready." She didn't sound as relaxed as before; his resistance still making her anxious.

"Would you like me to leave?" Sam asked, joining her in the kitchen.

"No, it's okay," She said calmly. "It's ready now."

They ate in silence; pasta in tomato and basil sauce. Sam wasn't much of a cook himself; Steven often made their dinner. He was proud of his son for being so talented but sometimes it made him ache, remembering everything he'd missed.

"Is it okay?" Mitzeee asked after a while.

"Mm, lovely," Sam said around a mouthful of food, accidentally dripping sauce onto his chin.

Mitzeee attempted not to smile but failed, holding out a tissue for him.

"Suits you." She teased as Sam wiped his mouth.

"Big improvement?" Sam chuckled.

"I don't know," Mitzeee said easily. "Maybe." She added, meeting his gaze directly.

Sam shifted, feeling the atmosphere alter in the room momentarily. He coughed, trying to ease the uneven rhythm of his heart pounding in his chest.

"It was lovely," He said awkwardly, putting his fork down. "I'll help you wash up."

"No need, dishwasher will do." Mitzeee stood up, taking his plate and her own. Sam composed himself while her back was turned, glancing at his watch. "Do you need to go?" She asked, turning at the wrong moment.

"I should probably get back," Sam replied, not wanting to overstay his welcome.

"Alright," Mitzeee said breezily. "Have you decided what to do about Ste?"

Sam scratched the back of his head. "I'll sleep on it; Terry seems to have disappeared for now."

Mitzeee nodded, the two of them standing awkwardly apart from each other.

"I'd keep your door locked, in case-" Sam cut himself off, feeling overly paranoid.

"Always do, Sam. Trust me." The tightness of her expression told Sam that she had seen her fair share of disruption and pain. He reflexively reached out to her but immediately thought better of it, pulling back.

"Sleep well," He said instead, making his way to the door.

"Sam?" Mitzeee said suddenly, drawing him back.

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

Sam was touched by her concern, mostly because he knew it came from a place of not wanting Steven to be hurt. He nodded, smiling tightly and exiting quickly before he said anything foolish. Once outside the flat he breathed out evenly, readying himself to take over the late shift at the club and drown out the thoughts pounding in his head.

He pushed away from the wall, phone in hand when he met the cool night air. He resisted the urge to call Steven, being true to his word about sleeping on it. Even as he relaxed in his walk towards the club, he still felt uneasy, like he was being watched. He shook himself, putting it down to paranoia and continued on his way.

Xxx

Ste turned his head to the side, peering in the darkness at the figure laid beside him. Hours earlier and they'd gotten married. _Married. _It was surreal to even think about it. Ste was too buzzed to sleep, turning constantly in the stiff, white linen. Eventually he flopped, limbs splayed across his side of the bed, weightless. He grinned at nothing in particular, feeling the familiar tightness in the pit of his stomach when he thought of Brendan and what they'd done.

They hadn't just gotten married, they'd become a part of each other. Unbreakable, as far as Ste was concerned.

He'd often thought of marriage as something binding, constricting. When he'd married Doug something had changed within him, like he was being pressed down and held still. He didn't feel that way with Brendan. He felt free, liberated. He supposed it also had something to do with his name change. He'd been branded a Hay from birth, not through any choice of his own. He'd been unsure of taking the name of Spencer because deep down as much as he loved his dad, he couldn't forget the neglect, however much he'd tried to find him. Choosing to be a Brady felt different. It felt right. Ste Brady. He'd chosen Brendan time and time again, forgiven more than any person rightly could and through that he'd found something he could call his own, truly his own. It didn't feel suffocating, it felt _real_.

"Why are ye still awake?" Brendan mumbled sleepily, rolling onto his side.

"I'm too excited," Ste explained, voice unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

Brendan cracked one eye open, looking at him in confusion. "I thought we sorted that earlier."

Ste blushed, grateful for the darkness. Whenever Brendan caught him blushing like that he made it his mission to make it worse; kissing him in the most tender of places, fingers finding their way to his ribs.

Brendan shifted closer towards him, breath ghosting across his face. He still smelt of toothpaste and the lingering tang of whiskey. His fingers found Ste's waist underneath the covers, drifting lightly across the skin.

"Looking for round two?"

"More like round three," Ste scoffed, but then Brendan's fingers were on his stomach and he felt the breath catch in his throat.

"What were ye really excited about then?" Brendan asked softly, pressing the palm of his hand against Ste's stirring cock.

"You," Ste breathed, profoundly grateful that they hadn't bothered to re-dress before bed. Brendan's hand rolled his balls in his palm, fingers splayed against the base of him.

"Is that right?" Brendan leaned across to pin him down onto the bed, face inches apart from Ste's own.

"It's just weird, init?"

"What?" Brendan pulled away a little to get a proper look at his face.

"Being married."

Brendan chuffed a laugh. "We've both been married before, Steven."

"Not like this though." Ste pointed out.

Brendan said nothing, staring at him thoughtfully. "Are ye telling me those were deep thoughts ye were having not-"

Ste pressed his lips firmly against Brendan's, swallowing the remainder of his sentence. When they broke apart to breathe, Brendan smiled knowingly. He gave Ste a push back onto the pillow, flinging the covers unceremoniously away from them.

He flicked the light switch on; the glow faint enough from one of the smaller lamps to not hurt their eyes, before he took in Ste's body.

"What to do with ye…" He murmured, sending a shiver of pleasure up Ste's spine. It was incredible that after all these years and separation he still inspired the same level of desire in him.

"Whatever you want; I'm yours aren't I?"

Brendan cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. "I thought we weren't doing that anymore."

"Tonight we can," Ste said, pulling himself up onto his elbows.

"Ye like that do ye? Show ye who's boss?"

"You know I do," Ste said, voice low.

"If ye insist." Brendan reached for the lube on the dresser, slicking his fingers up. Ste was still loose from the time before but he knew Brendan wouldn't take the risk of hurting him, or indeed missing out on the build up. "How's this?" Brendan asked, fingers rubbing and coaxing Ste open while he leaned on top of him, holding Ste firmly down.

"Good." Ste rasped, hips rising off the bed. Brendan held him still with one hand, effortless and powerful.

"How good?" Brendan pressed, hooking his fingers inside and stretching Ste's already slack muscles.

"You don't need to do that," Ste said unnecessarily.

"Says who? I thought I was in charge here." Brendan smiled, kissing Ste's cheek tenderly before moving his mouth down to his neck.

"You're getting off on this," Ste said wondrously. "I give you an inch-"

"I'll definitely be giving ye more than an inch," Brendan murmured, taking his hand from Ste's stomach to slick himself up instead.

"Cocky git," Ste rumbled, gasping when Brendan pulled his legs roughly apart.

"Not feeling too delicate are we?" Brendan teased, lining himself up.

"Yeah right." Ste smirked, and yet he winced a little as Brendan entered him. Brendan kept his pace slow, allowing Ste the time to adjust. "Go on then," Ste told him, pulling his knees back to his chest and tilting his pelvis. "Do your worst."

Brendan braced himself against Ste's knees, shifting his weight appropriately before he quickened his pace, pounding relentlessly into Ste. Ste felt his back rubbing against the bed sheets with each thrust. He laughed with delirium, grabbing Brendan's hands on his knees and clutching them tightly.

"Too much?" Brendan grunted, a thin sheen of sweat developing on his forehead.

"No way." Ste re-positioned his legs onto Brendan's shoulders, that familiar sense of smugness seeping through when Brendan's eyes glittered at his flexibility.

"You're incredible," He said breathlessly, control slipping. "And you're mine."

"I am." Ste groaned, hands fumbling to find Brendan's once more. "But you're mine too." He was surprised by the level of intensity to his words. He had never felt stronger in his conviction that Brendan was his. Maybe it had something to do with the wedding, or the fact that despite everything they'd found each other again. Later Ste even wondered about Seamus. He hated to think of the man, the rage almost too much to bear whenever his face appeared in his mind. Years without Brendan had hardened the part inside of him that wanted to kill the man who had done that to Brendan. Ste knew that if Cheryl hadn't done the job, he most certainly would have. He remembered dreaming about it constantly, one of the many nightmares that kept him awake at night. Hands around Seamus' throat, choking the breath out of him mercilessly. Sometimes he would make him bleed, like he no doubt had made Brendan bleed. The nightmares faded over time as the realisation sunk in that even if Brendan wasn't with him, Seamus was dead, gone forever. There was some comfort in that.

After their climax, Brendan pulled Ste against his chest, both of them sweaty and spent, hearts still clamouring to slow down. Brendan brushed the hair from Ste's forehead, his fingers trailing up and down Ste's bare arm.

"That was pretty…" Ste trailed off, smiling blissfully.

"Glad to hear it." Brendan's chest moved with his low rumble. He was content and sleepy once more; the perfect opportunity to get answers out of him.

"When are we going back, Brendan?" Ste glanced up at him when he felt Brendan tense, not answering his question. "Bren?" He tried again.

"Soon I guess." Brendan eventually answered. "In a hurry are ye?"

"Course not. I just wondered that's all."

"Declan's going back tomorrow." Brendan said. Declan was staying in the hotel too, a room away from theirs.

"So after that?" Ste pressed, keeping his face against Brendan's chest.

"Maybe." Brendan wrapped his arms tighter around him. "Sleep now though."

"But-"

"Steven," Brendan said warningly. Ste could already feel him slipping towards sleep. He pouted, annoyed at the lost opportunity. "Stop pouting, what is it?" Brendan asked.

"How did you know I was-"

"Steven," Brendan said again, waiting for him to reply.

"About going back." Ste sat up, looking at Brendan directly. He opened his eyes slowly, resigned that he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon.

"What about it?"

"Maybe it could be temporary," Ste blurted out in a rush.

That got Brendan's full attention. "What do ye mean?" He sat up a little, alert.

"I've been thinking about it and maybe you were right before. Besides the obvious what do we really have to stick around for? That place just holds too many bad memories, you know?"

"What's brought this on?" Brendan asked curiously.

"I dunno, with the wedding and that it just felt like a fresh start. But we'll never get to move on if we stick around there."

"Demons follow ye, Steven. It's all in here." Brendan pointed to his temple.

"I know that. But what if something else happens? I'd feel… safer I guess if we stay away."

Brendan frowned, hands reaching for Ste. "Has someone scared ye?" He asked, voice tight and tense with emotion.

"No, nothing like that." Ste sighed. "Maybe it's stupid."

"It's not stupid, Steven." Brendan shook his head, looking thoughtful. "It's definitely something to think about."

"You were well up for it before, what's changed?"

"Nothing. I just want to make sure that you're doing this for the right reasons."

"What other reasons are there?" Ste challenged. "I know it'll be dead hard to leave Mitzeee and Phoenix but they can visit us whenever they want."

"And yer dad?"

Ste looked away, feeling his stomach clench. "The way he's been acting, it might be for the best."

"Still yer dad." Brendan laughed, surprised at himself. "I'm not even sure why I said that ye know."

Ste smiled softly, resting himself against Brendan's chest once more. "I'm not saying we have to leave straight away or anything. It's just something to think about, init?"

"If it's what ye really want then yes."

"I think it is," Ste said, swallowing thickly. "But I kinda need to go back soon to make sure."

Brendan let out a deep breath. "Okay, another couple of days and we'll go back, yeah? I wanna enjoy the rest of this first." His hand rested on Ste's hip.

"Deal." Ste pulled the covers over them. "You can sleep now." He added unnecessarily. He wasn't sure either of them would be able to sleep straight away with this on their minds.


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Eight

For the first time in years, Brendan woke up feeling completely refreshed and happy. Steven was still fast asleep, legs tangled in the bed covers. Brendan carefully re-covered him to his chin, noting the chill of the morning. He swung his legs out of bed, bracing himself for the cold. He found a complimentary robe in the bathroom and dressed accordingly, the white cotton soft against his skin. Breakfast was chosen: sausage, eggs and bacon. Brendan ordered extra toast on the side with two strong coffees to follow.

Afterwards he sat on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window. There was frost gathering on the grass outside, trees swaying precariously in the strong wind. Brendan glanced again at Steven; he was practically drowning in the duvet. He decided then to keep them both inside that morning and spend lunch with Declan before he went back to Ireland.

A knock at the door stirred Brendan and his stomach, the latter growling in protest.

"Something smells good," Steven murmured from underneath the covers while Brendan closed the door.

"Awake now are ye?" Brendan said, handing Steven his coffee when he sat up in bed.

"If I hadn't all this would be gone by the time I did." Steven pointed out, closing his eyes contently after a long gulp of the warm liquid.

"True," Brendan rumbled, biting a sausage in half and offering Steven the other end.

"What's mine is yours and all that," Steven said, shoving the remainder of the sausage in his mouth. "That's good," He added, chewing heartily.

"Spoken like a true Brady," Brendan said, smiling at the thought.

Another knock at the door startled both of them, Brendan opting to answer. He breathed a sigh of relief when Declan appeared, letting himself in.

"Were you expecting someone else, Dad?" He laughed, flopping unceremoniously onto the bed. "Is that bacon?" He asked, wrinkling up his nose.

"Still the vegetarian?" Brendan sighed, placing Steven's breakfast on his lap.

"It's not a phase, Dad." Declan rolled his eyes, looking hungrily at the eggs on Brendan's plate. "Can I?"

"No breakfast in yer room?"

"I'm a student, Dad. I can hardly afford it."

"Fine." Brendan pushed some eggs from his plate onto another for Declan. "When's the flight then?"

"Trying to get rid of me?" Declan asked, shovelling a large forkful of egg into his mouth.

"Of course not," Brendan began quickly, silenced by Declan's bubbling laughter.

"Kidding! Jeez, you're getting easy in your old age."

"Come on, Deccy." Steven reprimanded him.

"You're like my step dad now aren't you?" Declan turned to him, grin widening.

Steven glanced at Brendan hesitantly.

"Why so serious? It's cool." Declan looked between them. "Come on, you should be happy! This is what you've always wanted, isn't it? What's the problem?"

Brendan locked gazes with Steven, communicating wordlessly.

"We're in the middle of deciding something potentially life-changing."

"More life-changing than getting married?" Declan countered, sobering a little. "What is it?"

"We wanna move," Steven blurted out before Brendan could. Brendan gave him a look, Steven smiling at him sheepishly in return.

"Really?" Declan's eyebrows rose. "Where?"

"We hadn't really thought that far ahead," Steven explained. "But you'll be the first to know, promise."

Declan nodded, looking thoughtfully at his food. "You could come to Ireland."

The thought had definitely crossed Brendan's mind but he wasn't sure Steven would approve on account of the distance from his loved ones. He stayed silent, allowing Steven to answer.

"Maybe," He said carefully. "It's still early days anyway."

Brendan swallowed down his doubts, wondering if Steven was having second thoughts already. Now wasn't the time to ask.

"Have you switched your phone on this morning? Paddy wanted to congratulate you," Declan said, changing the subject.

Brendan reached for his jacket, taking his phone out and checking his messages.

"Huh," He said, tilting his head to the side.

"What is it?" Steven asked, leaning up to get a look at the screen.

"Nothing," Brendan said, shaking his head. "I think."

"You think?" Steven glanced at Declan worriedly.

"I should go get packed anyway," Declan said hastily, plate practically licked clean. "See you in a bit."

"Alright, son," Brendan replied vaguely, still staring at the message.

"What's wrong?" Steven asked immediately once Declan had left the room. He stood up, peering over Brendan's shoulder.

"When did ye last hear from yer dad?" Brendan asked.

"My dad? I dunno; he's left a bunch of messages. Why?"

"Could be nothing," Brendan said quietly, shaking his head.

"Then why do you look so worried?"

Brendan collected himself, switching his phone to lock screen and putting it in his pocket once more.

"I'm not."

"Brendan…"

"Really, it's fine," Brendan said, attempting a smile. "We better get dressed ye know."

"Don't change the subject," Steven said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Is dad okay? I have a right to know."

"He's fine," Brendan replied. "Probably just another tactic to get us to come home."

"Oh." Steven deflated. "Is he worried?"

"Of course he is, Steven," Brendan sighed, pulling him in close by the waist. "But he doesn't have to be with me around."

"That's the problem with him though, init? He can't get past all that."

"Maybe he'll have a change of heart."

Steven snorted, looking up at Brendan sceptically. "You reckon?"

"I don't know," Brendan said truthfully. "We should enjoy the rest of our trip anyway."

"Okay," Steven said warily, pulling back to look into Brendan's face. "I'm gonna take a shower then, you wanna join me?" He pressed himself boldly against Brendan, all long limbs and soft skin.

"Give us a sec, yeah?"

Steven nodded uncertainly before heading to the bathroom. Brendan pulled his phone out once more when he was out of sight, staring at the message he'd received from Samuel.

_Brendan. I know we have our differences but I need your help. It's Steven. Call me. Sam. _

Was it a trick? Samuel had called both of them incessantly since they'd left but nothing like this. It certainly seemed like the sort of game he would play but Brendan wasn't confident in that conviction. Even if it was a trick, could Brendan really risk the possibility that it wasn't? He hesitated over the keys on his phone, considering how to reply.

_What is it? Better be serious, Samuel. _

Samuel replied within moments.

_You need to come back. Don't tell Steven. Please._

Brendan could hear the water running from the bathroom. His fingers drummed over his phone.

_Give me one day. _

Samuel's next reply surprised Brendan more than anything else so far.

_Thank you. _

Xxx

Brendan was distracted all day. Ste couldn't put his finger on the problem but he knew it wasn't good. Declan seemed to sense something too and he brightened as if to compensate. This was supposed to be a happy day, a celebration. Ste should have known things wouldn't be that simple.

They had lunch out with Declan, the conversation mainly taken up by Ste asking Declan questions about life back home with Brendan smiling and nodding in all the right places. When he went briefly to the toilet during their meal, Ste leaned closer towards Declan.

"What's going on?" He whispered, wary that Brendan could return at any moment.

"I don't know," Declan answered, leaning closer as well. "Did something happen this morning? He got dead weird when his phone went off."

"He mentioned my dad but not what he'd said. I'm worried he's said something to put Brendan off."

"Put him off? Really?" Declan looked at him incredulously.

"What?" Ste asked impatiently.

"I don't think anything could put him off you, he's only just married you!"

"I guess," Ste mumbled, still troubled.

"Listen," Declan said quickly, glancing over Ste's head. "Whatever it is, my dad loves you. Nothing's gonna change that. It could be something of nothing. When I go, ask him outright, he can't lie to you, not anymore. Text me when you know more, okay?"

Ste nodded hurriedly, glancing behind them to see Brendan returning to their table.

"What did I miss?" He asked, sipping his coke. Ste had been wondering why he'd stayed on the soft drinks today.

"Not much," He said, looking pointedly at Declan. "You want me to order you a whiskey?"

"No," Brendan said, voice low. "I need to drive later."

"Drive?" Ste asked, confused.

Brendan looked down at the table, avoiding his gaze. "We should get back today."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said," Brendan cut in. "But something's come up, unavoidable."

Brendan's tone said it wasn't up for discussion. Ste glanced at Declan who seemed just as confused as he was. He shrugged at him, looking sorry. Ste slumped back in his seat, disappointed.

Brendan softened then, briefly touching his arm. "I'll make it up to ye, promise."

Ste nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Brendan sighed and nothing more was said on the matter.

They dropped Declan off at the airport later that afternoon, Brendan more himself when he said goodbye to his son.

"I'll speak to ye soon, alright? I'll call when I can."

"Don't make it too long," Declan told him, hugging his father tightly. He turned to Ste, doing the same. "Don't forget to text me." He whispered so Brendan couldn't hear. Ste nodded, smiling as brightly as he could when they pulled apart.

"Have a safe flight."

"A boring one more like," Declan said, grinning. "Least I've got my music though," He added, popping his headphones in his ears.

"Ye aren't supposed to do that till take off," Brendan said seriously.

Declan laughed. "I know, Dad. Lighten up." He flashed them both a grin before departing, Brendan watching him go until he was out of sight.

"Right, start talking," Ste said immediately, giving Brendan his most defiant look.

Brendan deflated, unable to look at him directly. "Can ye just trust me?"

"I do trust you but we're married now, we should be completely honest with each other."

Brendan raised his eyebrows. "No wonder ye weren't married for long." He joked.

"Oi, don't change the subject." Ste frowned. "Tell me."

Brendan looked away, lips pressed firmly together.

"Fine, I'll go back by myself then and ask dad what's going on."

"No!" Brendan said sharply, stepping in front of him. He laughed a little breathlessly, hands reaching out but not quite touching Ste's chest. "Don't."

"Then tell me the truth," Ste said firmly. "Do you not remember why we left? Dad treating me like this delicate kid who couldn't make his own choices. I don't want that from you, Brendan."

"Alright," Brendan said, hands falling to his sides in defeat. "I don't really know anything. Samuel wants us to come back because something's wrong."

"Did he say what it was?"

"No, just that it's to do with you."

Ste blinked. "And you just trusted him?"

"I can't take that risk, Steven."

"You know what he's been like!" Ste exclaimed. "We shouldn't listen."

"But what if he's telling the truth and something _is _wrong?"

"Say there is something, isn't it better to stay away? What good will it do going back? Something's not right about this." Ste frowned, worrying on his bottom lip. "I'm gonna call Mitzeee," He said decisively.

Brendan said nothing, simply watched him take his phone out and find Mitzeee's number. She answered on the third ring.

"Ste? Everything okay, love?"

"I dunno, Mitz. I was hoping you could tell me."

"Ah, has Sam told you then?"

Ste paused, glancing at Brendan. "What?"

"He hasn't?" Mitzeee cursed. "What's happened?"

"Nothing. Brendan got this weird message from him telling us to come back."

"You are then?" Mitzeee asked hopefully.

"Should we?"

Mitzeee paused. "Yeah. Be discreet though, okay?"

"Why?" Ste asked sharply and the next moment felt the phone leaving his hand.

"Anne?" Brendan turned away, voice low and urgent. "Tell me what it is, now."

Brendan's back stiffened within moments as he turned slowly back to face Ste.

"What is it?" Ste asked, anger fading when he saw the look on Brendan's face. "Bren?"

Brendan hung up the phone, handing it wordlessly back to Ste.

"Come on, we need to move." He said, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of the flight timetable.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking flights. Where do ye fancy? Spain? Italy? I like Italy. We could go somewhere low key, maybe-"

"Brendan!" Ste tugged his hand free. "What's gotten into you?"

"Terry's back," Brendan said, voice sharp and seething with emotion.

"_What_?"

"He wants something from ye; Samuel's seen him and he's scared."

"What could he possibly want from me? I don't have money or anything."

"I don't know, Steven. I'm not keen to find out."

"But you were all for going home before we called Mitzeee."

"That was before I knew why! What on earth is Samuel thinking, getting ye to come back knowing what he knows?"

"He must have a good reason," Ste said uncertainly.

"I don't give a fuck, come on." Brendan grabbed his hand again, steering them towards the check-in desk.

"No, Brendan!" Ste pulled them up short. "This is crazy! We can't just run away."

"Why not?" Brendan rounded on him, grip tightening.

"You're scaring me!" Ste told him, earning them a few glances from passers by.

"I had him beaten up in prison, Steven!" Brendan blurted, eyes wild and terrified. "Do ye remember Simon Walker? Do ye remember how far he went to get revenge for something I didn't even do directly?"

"Terry's not Walker," Ste said firmly. "He's manipulative but he's far from clever like he was."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Ste stood his ground, not willing to go anywhere until Brendan explained himself.

"There's always someone out to get us, Steven and I can't keep doing it, alright? I can't lose ye again." His voice broke on the last words and for a moment Ste felt himself waver until his resolve found him again.

"You won't! Terry's a thug but he's not stupid enough to hurt me now, if he's been inside like you say."

"I had him constantly beaten up, Steven. Badly. Ye think he'll just forget that?"

"What were you thinking of?" Ste chastised. "He could have hurt you!"

"He didn't; I made sure of it."

Ste rubbed his face with his hands, exasperated. "We can't run away from this, from him. I won't do it."

"Steven-"

"No, Brendan! I've spent my entire life terrified of that man and I can't run from this, not anymore. I need to face him."

"No."

"It's not up for discussion!" Ste stormed in the opposite direction, towards the exit.

"Steven, please!" Brendan stepped in front of him again, hands out to slow him down.

"Let me do this. Let me prove to you and dad that I'm not fragile. I'm Ste Brady, I can do anything."

Brendan groaned. "Ye don't have to prove anything to anyone! I just want ye safe."

"And I'll never feel safe until I know what he wants." Ste crossed his arms again, looking at Brendan fiercely. "You're either with me on this or you aren't."

"Do I get a choice?" Brendan asked, deflating.

"I'm going back whatever you say. I hope you'll come with me."

Brendan balked at that. "Of course I'm fucking coming with ye."

"Good. Let's go then." Ste walked ahead, leaving Brendan to trail along behind. For all his brave words and resolve inside he was terrified. It was taking a great deal of effort to hold himself together and stop from shaking. Brendan eventually caught up with him, taking his hand more gently this time.

"I'm sorry."

"I get it, Brendan. You're worried."

"More than that," Brendan murmured. "Do ye have any idea how much ye mean to me? I couldn't deal if anything happened to ye."

"I know that," Ste said softly, squeezing his hand. "I won't do anything stupid, promise. You can be with me the whole time."

"Course," Brendan said gruffly.

They walked in silence to the car, Brendan not letting go of him.

"If this was the old me, I'd have driven ye somewhere remote by now and not given ye a choice."

"I know," Ste said, sliding into the car. "But you've changed and so have I. I can't let Terry bully me anymore. I'm not that scared kid I used to be."

"Ye don't need to tell me that," Brendan said quietly, starting the car up.

"Everything will be okay," Ste said with more confidence than he felt. He swallowed thickly. "And if it isn't, Italy here we come."

Brendan smiled briefly but he was still tense, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Ste sighed, closing his eyes as he leant his head back. It was going to be a long drive home.


End file.
